


Eifersucht

by FrauSchneider



Category: Emigrate (Band), Feeling B, Lindemann, Rammstein
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Lust, M/M, Major Character Injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Obsession, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-01 00:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 32,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrauSchneider/pseuds/FrauSchneider
Summary: The things love drives people to do...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be a short story, but I suspect it might be a little longer than anticipated. the story seems to have a mind of its own...

Prologue

The man looked through the scope on his high-velocity rifle, calculating distance and wind-speed in order to make an accurate shot when his target came into view. He knew he had a while to wait, he’d arrived at his carefully selected vantage point with plenty of time to spare, wanting to ensure everything was to his satisfaction before the appointed hour.  
Nodding to himself, certain that he’d accounted for every eventuality, he set the rifle down and sat back, pondering how much his life had changed in such a relatively short time, and how various turns of events had led him to this rooftop.

Chapter One

Music filled the house, wireless speakers in each ground-floor room ensuring that the party spirit was maintained everywhere. Drinks flowed freely from a seemingly endless supply from the kitchen, and from ice buckets placed strategically around the swimming pool outside in the yard, lights scattered around throwing shadows into sharp relief, before dissipating closer to the bushes around the garden’s perimeter.

Paul was sitting on a bench drinking from a vodka bottle, chatting away with Flake while watching his fellow revellers at Till’s party. His attention was focused on one person in particular, so much so that he didn’t realise Flake had asked him a question until his friend purposely stood in his line of sight, making him scowl and look up, annoyed.

“Flake!”

“Were you listening just now?”

“Of course I was, you were talking about your book…”

“What specifically about my book?” Flake asked, checking how much Paul had taken in.

“About how many ‘Feeling B’ references you should make?” Paul ventured, caught out.

“If you’d been paying attention to our conversation rather than mentally undressing Richard, you would have heard me ask which of three possible titles you think I should choose.”

Paul’s face flushed red, embarrassed, but it was difficult to spot due to the fresh air and alcohol having already turned his cheeks ruddy.

“I wasn’t…” he started to object.

“Oh please, you’ve had the hots for him for years! Don’t you think it’s about time you gave up pining and move on? You’re not his type and you know it. He prefers men who are taller and stronger than himself, and you’re neither of those. Find yourself someone else to drool over, someone you’ve got at least a ghost of a chance to hook up with!”

As the object of his attention accepted the hand outstretched to him by Schneider, Paul sighed and turned to look at Flake.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. There’s no way he’ll ever think of me as anything other than a friend and colleague. I just think we would have been good together.”

Schneider was pulling Richard towards the house, where Richard had a bedroom. As he and Till often hung out together, they had each set a room aside for the other where they could crash if they stayed out late, or had drunk too much to drive. Although Till fell into the category of ‘Richard’s type’, they were too much like brothers for either of them to even contemplate hooking up, not to mention Till’s preference for women, the bustier the better.

Richard had a big grin plastered on his face as Schneider led him inside, knowing what the drummer’s intentions were. Paul and Flake also had a very good idea of what was about to transpire. Flake rolled his eyes and took another swig from his bottle of beer.

Noticing that Paul’s gaze was following their bandmates, he remarked, “You’re looking a tad green there Paul, and I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with the vodka!”

“Fuck off, Flake,” Paul retorted, getting up from the bench.

“Where are you going?”

“To find someone else to ‘obsess over’ as per your suggestion.”

With that he stomped off, looking for any likely prospects. Flake shook his head, wondering what he’d done in a past life to deserve having Paul as a best friend. Spotting Till by the tables laden with food for his guests, he made his way over and struck up a conversation, his chat with Paul soon forgotten.

***

Over the following few weeks the band were busy working on the new album’s post-production, and discussing when, or indeed if they would tour in support of the album’s release, as well as choosing which interview requests they would agree to.

When the six of them were finally in agreement that the new album was ready for release, they decided to have a low-key ‘wrap party’ just for the six of them at a new bar that Paul had spotted, in the heart of Berlin.

There were American diner style booths lining one wall of the bar, and the friends crowded into one of the couple currently vacant, and ordered drinks. As the conversation and beer flowed, Paul felt the need for a smoke and got up to head for the smoking area outside, at the rear of the bar.  
Richard stood up too. “I’m just going for a piss, then I’ll join you.”

Paul nodded, and set off for the exit. Outside, the lighting was dim, no doubt to encourage people to return inside where they could spend more money. He fumbled in his jacket for his cigarettes, before lighting one up, looking around the area while he waited for Richard.

A couple of minutes later, Richard emerged from the toilets and made his way across the bar to the exit at the back. Richard pushed the door open, but before he was fully through, the others heard him yell, “Hey! What are you doing? Let go of him…”  
The door swung shut as he ran outside, cutting off the rest of his words from his friends inside. Alarmed, they rose as one from their table and bolted towards the door through which both guitarists had exited, before skidding to a halt outside. Neither man was in sight, and in the near distance they could hear squealing tyres.

“Shit! Where are they?”

The four of them searched around the vicinity to see if they could find their two friends, but they had apparently vanished into thin air.

“Here – I found Richard’s lighter…” Schneider said, crouching down to retrieve a small metal box from the tarmac.

“Are you sure it’s his?” Ollie asked.

“Yes – it’s got the inscription I had engraved on it for his birthday – look…”

Till had been scouring the nearby back alleys, but turning nothing up, returned to the others.

“I hate to say it, but I think someone may have abducted them,” Flake said, worried. “We should call the police.”

“If there’s the chance this is another one of Paul’s practical jokes, we’d look pretty stupid calling the cops. Let’s see if this place has working CCTV first, see if we can spot anything for ourselves.”

They filed back indoors, Till’s imposing figure leading the way to the bar in search of the duty manager and possible clues to their friends’ whereabouts.

***

“Is there any audio on this?” Flake asked the manager, who, as it turned out, was something of a fan of theirs, and on hearing why they wanted to see the security footage acquiesced without the need for a police warrant - or any police involvement for that matter – keen to avoid any bad publicity while the bar was in its infancy.

“I’m sorry, no. The company wouldn’t stump up for extras like that.”

“Would it be okay for us to take this recording, so we can get someone to analyse it?”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ve downloaded a copy, so you can keep the original for as long as you need.”

“Thank you. You better give us your contact details so that we can return it to you when we’re done, or if we need to get the police involved. Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

***  
They made their way to Schneider’s house, as it was nearest to the bar, in order to discuss what they should do next. Schneider inserted the memory card with the security footage into his laptop, and started searching the folders for the appropriate video file, so that they could study the footage again.

Till’s phone buzzed while they were waiting. He looked at the caller ID in surprise and answered it immediately.

“Scholle! Where are…” he stopped short as a voice spoke on the other end, obviously artificially altered.

“We have your friends. We will call again tomorrow with our list of demands. Be ready. No cops, or your friends die.”

The call cut off, and when Till tried calling back he got an ‘out of service’ message. He looked at the others, waiting expectantly when they heard Richard’s nickname, and told them what the caller had said.  
“They probably removed the battery and sim card from Richard’s phone so we can’t locate them,” Schneider opined. “I’ll call some of my contacts in the military, see if they can help us trace the call when it comes in, and analyse this footage. Maybe you should stay here tonight Till – if we assume that the kidnappers call your mobile again, we should make sure my associates are in place, whatever time they ring. I’ll get in touch with them now.”

Till nodded in agreement, Schneider’s reasoning was sound. Surprising, considering it was his paramour who’d been snatched along with one of his oldest and dearest friends. He waited until Flake and Ollie had left before raising the point.

“How come you’re so calm about all this? They’ve got Richard!”

“Believe me, underneath I’m anything but calm. But right now, keeping a level head and reverting to my army training is the only thing keeping me from curling up into a ball and sobbing like a child, which won’t be of any help to Paul or Richard. I know he and I agreed to keeping things casual between us, but…”

“You’ve got it hard for him, huh? I admit, I didn’t think your relationship would last. Nowadays I’m more surprised that you haven’t popped the question yet.”

Schneider looked up from his phone book, where he’d been searching for his former comrades-in-arms. “Really? Do you think Richard would say yes if I did propose?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. He changes his mind more often than any woman I know!”

Schneider smiled sadly at that as Till continued, “What I do know is that he loves you more than he cares to admit – to me or to himself – I see it in the way his face lights up when you’re around…and on the rare occasions when he buys a new shirt he asks me if I think you’ll like it. Pretty safe to say he’s smitten.”

“Let’s hope I get the opportunity to find out what his answer would be.” Schneider sniffed, and taking a deep breath, picked up his phone and started punching in numbers.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where Richard and Paul are in a bit of a situation....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, apologies for the delay in updating - between work and being ill I've not had chance to post until now. Hope you enjoy!

“Oh god, my head! How much did I drink last night?” Richard asked as he slowly came around.  
“Not as much as you’re about to wish you had…”  
Richard sat up quickly, surprised to hear Paul’s voice answering him instead of Schneider’s. This proved to be a mistake, as his sudden movements caused him to feel very dizzy.  
“Ugh…” he managed to utter, as he leant his back against the wall, waiting for the room to stop spinning.  
“If you need to puke, there’s a toilet in that corner.”  
Richard dared to crack open one eye, then the other when his brain refused to believe what he was seeing. Richard found that he was sitting on a basic single bed, pushed up against one wall of a small whitewashed-brick room. Paul was seated on a utilitarian chair at a small wooden table by the opposite wall. A toilet and washbasin were against the rear wall, the former hidden behind a privacy screen which rose to approximately three-feet from the floor. The remaining wall, at the front of the room, housed a very solid-looking metal door with a small hatch, only operable from the other side.  
“Are we…did we get arrested for something?” Richard enquired, confused.  
“You don’t remember what happened last night?”  
“I remember we all went to that new bar, I followed you outside for a smoke, then…nothing…”  
“They must have hit you on the head harder than I thought.”  
“They? They who? If this is a prank it’s in very poor taste, even for you!”  
Richard got up and tried opening the door, but found it locked and unyielding. Panic started to set in.  
“Paul, where are we? What are we doing here?”  
“Try to calm down, Reesh, getting stressed out won’t help either of us. I can’t tell you where we are, as I don’t know. What I do know is that we were snatched outside the club, and then dumped here.”  
“You’re telling me to calm down when we’ve been KIDNAPPED!! Seriously? Especially when we’re in what looks like a jail cell, just like when I was…when I…” Richard started hyperventilating as some very unpleasant memories started to assail him.  
Paul jumped up and helped Richard over to the bed and sat him down.  
“Put your head between your knees, breathe in deeply…hold it…and out …and in…and out…”  
Gradually, Richard’s panic subsided and he was able to breathe normally again, at which point he started to make other observations.  
“Er, where have my jeans and jumper gone? And my shoes and socks?”  
“The people who took us stripped us down to our t-shirts and underwear once they got us here, I think it’s to deter us from trying to escape, considering how cold it is outside.”  
“Why’s there only one bed? You’d have thought that they’d have arranged a cell with two beds if they were kidnapping two people, or separate cells…”  
“I think they were only planning on taking one person, but since you turned up as they were grabbing me, they must have decided to take advantage of the opportunity.”  
“If they were targeting you, how did they know where you’d be? We’d never been to that bar before!”  
“I don’t know…maybe they’d been following us, or maybe they were just after anyone who came out of the bar. They’ve not said anything yet.”  
“I guess either of those would make sense. Any idea how long we’ve been here anyway?”  
“By my reckoning only a couple of hours, but as they took our phones and watches I can’t be sure – I’m only guessing from the light levels from that window up there.”  
The window in question was too small for either of them to fit through, and located high up near the ceiling, providing limited illumination. It was still dark outside, with just the faintest sliver of moonlight filtering through, the whitewashed walls reflecting the light only minimally.  
“I guess we better try and get some sleep then, save our energy for whatever they’ve got planned.”  
“You go first, since you’re already on the bed, I can snooze on the chair.”  
“Don’t be daft, there’s enough room for the two of us on the bed if we spoon. I promise not to molest you, Paulchen!”  
“Are you sure Schneider won’t kill me when he finds out we’ve slept together?”  
“Why would you think he would? For one, we’re just sharing a bed out of necessity, it’s not as if we’d be fucking each other. Secondly, even if we did end up fucking, Schneider and I are just ‘friends with benefits’, much as I hate that term. We both know that either one of us could get a new partner at any time. He’d deal with it. But, as we’re only sleeping, it’s a moot point.”  
“Well…I guess it is a bit chilly in just my shirt and pants. Shift over then!”  
Richard got under the thin sheet and blanket, and moved himself over so his back was against the cell wall. Paul sat on the edge before swinging his legs up under the covers, and laid his head on his half of the pillow.  
“If you hear a thud in the next few hours, don’t worry, it’s probably me falling off the edge of the bed, breaking a few bones along the way.”  
Richard sighed, and wrapped his free arm around Paul, pulling him closer to himself.  
“There – happy now? And people think I’m a drama queen! If only they knew…”  
“Well, they got you half-right!” Paul teased.  
“I’d watch what you say Paulchen, I can easily throw you to the floor! Now, shut up and go to sleep!”  
Paul smiled to himself, despite the conditions they were in. Richard’s arm was a comforting weight around his waist, and he soon warmed up snuggled up close to the younger man behind him. It wasn’t long before Richard’s steady breathing changed to gentle snores. Paul laid in the dark listening to his friend until he too nodded off.

***

A mixture of wintery sunlight, together with the aroma of fresh coffee, served as a wake-up call for Richard. He groaned and stretched, muscles stiff from sleeping on the unforgiving mattress.  
“Do I smell coffee?” he asked, hopeful that he wasn’t still dreaming.  
Paul chuckled softly from the table, where he was tucking in to some pastries.  
“Oh good, you’re awake! I thought that coffee would do the trick if nothing else did. I was beginning to think you’d got concussion!”  
Richard yawned and moved to sit upright, before rising to pad the short distance to the table to grab the proffered cup of coffee and to grab a danish for himself before Paul could eat them all. He sat on the edge of the bed and took a bite. As Paul opened his mouth to speak, Richard cut him off.  
“Coffee first, then words.”  
Swallowing his first mouthful, he grimaced. The coffee was obviously one of those instant brands rather than the filter coffee he had grown accustomed to, but he emptied the cup between bites of his breakfast. Finally feeling a little more human, he looked across at Paul.  
“How long have you been up, then?”  
“Not long, maybe half an hour. I’ve actually been awake a lot longer, but I didn’t want to disturb you too soon, you were spark out! Just how do you manage to sleep so soundly on a bed like that?”  
“Once you learn how to sleep on a park bench, you find you can sleep pretty much anywhere. Although, back then, I never woke up aching as much as I am now! I take it our captors brought breakfast while you were up, did they say anything?”  
“Yes, they only opened the hatch to pass it through. They said they want us to show that we’re being looked after, they’re going to be doing a ‘proof of life’ thingy with us, and thought we’d be more co-operative if we’d had coffee.”  
Richard snorted derisively. “Can’t say I’m feeling very inclined towards making it easy for them, with or without coffee…”  
There was a metallic clunk as the door was unlocked and swung outwards. Three men stood in the corridor – at least Richard assumed they were men judging from their build, as they wore masks – two of them brandished guns, each pointed at one of the guitarists, while the third instructed them to turn round and put their hands behind their hands behind their backs so that he could bind them, before gagging and blindfolding them too.  
Once their captors were satisfied that they were good to go, they were escorted out of the cell, down several corridors, and were twisted and turned about that they both lost their sense of direction, which was the intent.  
Eventually they were led to a pair of chairs and made to sit down. Both their blindfolds were removed, causing them to turn their heads and blink rapidly in the glare of bright spotlights trained on them. Aside from providing more than adequate lighting for the video call they were about to make, the positioning of the lights meant that they couldn’t make out any details of anything else in the room.  
The pair of them had been tied to their chairs by both arms and legs. The man who’d been in charge of restraining them removed the bandana used to gag Richard and spoke menacingly.  
“When my colleague over there dials up your friends, you will read from these prompt boards. You will not deviate from the wording, you will not acknowledge your friends on the other end. You are delivering a message, nothing more. Disobeying will bring consequences – understood?”  
Richard nodded. One of the others walked forward holding Richard’s phone. Using Richard’s fingerprint to unlock it, he scrolled until he found Till’s contact information, pressed the video call function, and when Till answered, spoke through a voice filter.  
“Your friend has a message for you – pay attention.”


	3. Three

Richard hissed and winced as the antiseptic that Paul was dabbing on his head stung.  
“Stop moving, or this will take longer! Why did you have to go and break their rules anyway? You were told there would be consequences! I’m surprised they let me clean you up after that!”  
Richard pulled a face as Paul dabbed an antiseptic-soaked cotton-wool ball on his cut again.  
“I wanted to see how serious they were about it. Now I know…and anyway, all I did was say Till’s name…”  
“Which was enough to make them pistol-whip you! I shudder to think what they might have done if you’d tried something really stupid…there – finished! You might end up with a small scar, but it’ll be hidden under your hair.”  
“Thanks, Paulchen.”  
Richard gave Paul a quick peck on the cheek as he got up from the chair.  
“Have you tried asking for books or something for us to read while we wait for the money-drop? Three days is a long time to be cooped up with nothing to do.”  
“Actually, that’s three days until the next call to tell the others the time and place of the drop, not the drop itself! The kidnappers gave them that time so that the others can liquidate the money, seems they know that you can’t just grab a couple million euros at the drop of a hat, unless they did it by wire transfer…”  
“But that would leave a digital trail for cops to follow, afterwards. Hard cash on the other hand…”  
“Exactly. In answer to your question I’ll try asking for something when they bring us our next meal, but you’ll have to behave yourself. Let me do the talking.”  
“See if you can get my cigarettes off them too, I’m pretty sure I’m in the early stages of nicotine withdrawal.”  
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up on that front, I’m certain that they wouldn’t hand a lighter over to known pyromaniacs!”  
Richard grunted in response, mood definitely soured at the thought of not having a smoke in the near future. With nothing else to do while they waited for their captors to turn up again, the pair of them discussed ideas for future songs, and where they’d like to go on tour in support of the new album, avoiding considering the chance that they wouldn’t be freed.

***

Schneider’s face was ghostly pale after listening in on the video call. He and Till, and a couple of Schneider’s comrades from his stint in the army, had all been in the room together ready for the ransom demand, so he’d seen one of the kidnappers hit Richard’s head with their gun moments after he said Till’s name, knocking Richard out for a few agonizing seconds. They made Paul finish the demand instead, gagging Richard once they were certain he was conscious again.  
“Tell me you managed to trace the call…”  
“Sorry Schneider, they weren’t on long enough for us to trace it all the way back. When they ring back with the drop details we’ll have another chance, you’ll need to keep them talking for longer.”  
“What about visual or audio clues? Anything stand out?”  
“Not on first viewing, but we’ll analyse it and see if anything can help narrow the search. What about the money? Do you think you’ll be able to arrange it if we can’t locate them in time?”  
“When we realised they’d been kidnapped we already started looking at how to gather a ransom. Moving money out of our personal accounts, we can cover it between the four of us, without too much trouble. It would have been much easier to arrange it by bank transfer though,” Till replied.  
“Okay, so while you and your friends arrange the money, we’ll continue to narrow down their location, but we’ll get a small team ready to move on the drop. There are a number of tactics we can employ.”  
With a few days before the next call was due to come in, Schneider’s military contacts took their leave, taking a copy of the videocall with them to put through a different set of analytical programs, along with a copy of the security footage from the club.  
“We’ll get them back Schneider, hang in there.” Till said as he gave Schneider a hug, wishing he was half as confident as he sounded.

***

Richard paced the cell anxiously. The caffeine hit from the coffee they’d been given with their evening meal was already wearing off, and as Paul had suggested, his request for the return of his cigarettes had been denied.  
The cravings had set in long ago, and he was now starting to suffer some of the other symptoms of nicotine withdrawal – nausea, a severe headache, coupled with irritability and coughing. Richard stopped pacing and put his hands on the table to steady himself as another bout of coughing started.  
“Sit down, Reesh. I’m sure all that pacing isn’t helping your anxiety levels…mine either for that matter! Your behaving like a caged lion is making me nervous about whether or not you’re planning on doing something crazy.”  
Richard looked over at Paul as he got his breath back. His normally vivacious friend had a despondent air about him, which he’d not noticed until now. He sat on the bed next to Paul and gave him a hug.  
“I’m sorry Paul. I can’t help trying to think of ways to get us out of this situation, if at all possible. Despite the guns, this doesn’t feel anywhere near as scary as last time I was locked up, but I forget this is your first time.”  
“I think you’re forgetting the Halloween incident on the ‘Family Values’ tour. But that was only a few hours. I guess I better be careful in case one of these jerks tries to make me their bitch!”  
“It’s usually fellow inmates that make you their bitch…so you better watch out for me!” Richard said with a grin.  
Paul gave a small smile in response, but Richard could see that his friend seemed very worried and was fidgeting as much as Richard had been without his cigarettes, his hands being left without something to occupy them.  
“I’ll look after you Paulchen, I won’t let them hurt you.”  
“But what if they – ”  
Realising Paul was close to having a panic attack and needed distracting from his thoughts, Richard went with a tactic he knew well. Cupping Paul’s chin with one hand and tilting his head up, Richard leant in and cut Paul off mid-sentence with a kiss.  
He could feel Paul freeze at first, possibly more out of surprise than anything else, but the older man soon returned the kiss eagerly, his arms snaking round Richard’s sides, pulling him closer. Deciding that, given the circumstances, Schneider would forgive him for sharing a kiss and a cuddle with Paul in order to calm him down, Richard allowed himself to be drawn in. He could always stop things if they looked like going too far.  
Paul gently pushed Richard backwards – further on to the bed – until they were both laid down. Richard reached an arm up, placing one hand behind Paul’s neck, as his tongue pushed inside Paul’s mouth, the tip stroking the roof before retreating, inviting Paul to follow into his own mouth, which Paul was more than willing to do.  
Paul’s hands seemed to take on a life of their own, one moment they were stroking Richard’s sides, the next they were pushing up Richard’s shirt, exposing the younger man’s lean, muscular body. Paul broke off the kiss so that he could pull the t-shirt over Richard’s head, before resuming their embrace.  
He moved one hand up to Richard’s chest, hand squeezing the warm flesh of one of his pecs, thumb lightly brushing against the nipple, which hardened in response to his touch. As Paul gently squeezed it between thumb and forefinger, Richard moaned, head tilting back. Paul took the opportunity that gave to start kissing and licking Richard on his neck, eliciting more moans from him.  
Richard was still just about able to have rational thoughts. Okay, they’d gone to second base. No worries. Still just kissing and a bit of groping – nothing serious.  
Paul started sucking on the other nipple whilst playing with the other. As he brushed up over Richard, his arousal rubbed against Richard’s crotch, causing it to twitch slightly. Paul felt the movement and continued kissing Richard, moving back to occupy his mouth, while his hands started skimming Richard’s sides again, then his pecs and abdomen, switching location randomly, keeping Richard’s attention off-balance, so when he stuck one hand under Richard’s waistband it was unexpected.  
Richard gasped in surprise, before saying “Paul – wait!”, even as his erection hardened in the grip of Paul’s hand, stroking it up and down firmly.  
“What’s wrong, Reesh? Aren’t you enjoying this?”  
“Yes…no…I mean – we shouldn’t!”  
“Why not? You said yourself that you’re only with Doom when neither of you are with anyone else, so why not look at this as the potential start of a new relationship, your conscience is clear.”  
What Paul said was factually true, so Richard couldn’t argue against his logic, but that didn’t stop him from feeling that this was still wrong somehow. Robbed of his argument, he decided to point out the obvious instead.  
“Okay – fair point – but that doesn’t change the fact that we don’t have condoms or lube, and I’m not about to ask those assholes out there if they have any!”  
Paul was starting to feel frustrated by this point, and found it difficult to mask the irritation in his voice. “Look, I’m clean. I know you always use condoms, so I can assume you’re clean too.”  
It was a statement more than a question, but Richard nodded an affirmative as Paul continued, “As for lube – there’s that antibiotic hand gel over by the basin – we could use that as a substitute. You started this by kissing me like that – were you just toying with me? Seeing how far I’d be willing to go for your own amusement?”  
“Paul…no…I’m sorry – it’s not like that! I could see how anxious you were and wanted to calm you down. I didn’t think that…”  
“That’s your problem, Kruspe. You don’t think about how your actions will affect others. You led me on, and then when you’d had enough of your stupid, ugly friend – who obviously can’t possibly compare to Schneider – when you had enough of me making a fool of myself over you, you break it off. Well, fuck you, Reesh! Some friend you turned out to be!”  
Paul got up from the bed and stomped – as much as one can when barefoot – over to the washbasin to clean his hands.  
Richard sat up, momentarily stunned by his friend’s vitriolic outburst. He’d honestly had no idea about the depths of Paul’s feelings for him, and now he’d hurt them – the complete opposite of his original intentions. He now felt guilty for a new set of reasons. He rose up from the mattress and moved to stand behind Paul, still angrily washing his hands.  
“I don’t think you’re ugly or stupid, Paulchen.”  
Paul continued washing himself, ignoring Richard.  
“I’m sorry. I’ve evidently hurt your feelings. I’m the idiot for not noticing how you feel. For the record, I think you’re cute and funny. I like spending time with you, although I would prefer it to be under different circumstances, obviously.”  
Paul turned off the water, silent for a moment, weighing up Richard’s words carefully.  
“You’re a jerk, Reesh.”  
“I know. I’m sorry.”  
Richard put one hand on Paul’s arm, and when Paul failed to shake him off, added the other on the opposite side, bending slightly to plant a small kiss on the other man’s shoulder, in the same manner that they did during shows to tease the audience.  
“You think I’m cute?”  
Paul felt Richard’s warm breath tickling his neck and shoulder - sending a shiver down his spine – as the younger man smiled at the question.  
“Very cute. Positively adorable in fact.”  
“Really?”  
Richard rolled his eyes, and turned Paul round to face him.  
“Really. Especially when you’re up to no good and have that mischievous grin on your face. At times like that I could eat you up!”  
There was no mistaking the warmth and sincerity in Richard’s voice, which was reflected in his pale blue eyes. Richard looked as though he was about to continue, but another fit of coughing struck, doubling him over in pain as his chest seemed to constrict around his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath. As it subsided, Paul helped Richard to stand up straight again, concern lining his forehead with deep furrows.  
“You don’t look at all well, Reesh. Perhaps you should lie down again.”  
“I just need a smoke, then I’ll be fine.”  
He didn’t protest as, for the second time in under twenty-four hours, Paul guided him back to the bed. As he settled himself back under the covers, putting his t-shirt back on, Paul banged on the cell door, hoping to get the attention of their captors.  
“Hello! Hello! Can anyone hear me? Hello?”  
He waited a moment before trying again. After a few attempts he gave up and crossed to the bed.  
“I’m sorry, Reesh. There doesn’t appear to be anyone close by at the moment.”  
“Thank you for trying, Paulchen. I’ll just have to try and sleep it off, instead.”  
“You might feel the need to vomit during the night, perhaps I should sleep next to the wall in case you need to get up in a hurry. From what I can remember when I stopped smoking, the first two or three days were the worst, but then it gets easier.”  
“If that was meant to reassure me, it didn’t work,” Richard said, as he shifted so that Paul could get to his other side more easily.   
He turned to lie on one side, so that he was facing away from his friend, and by so doing wouldn’t cough on him. Sleep was a long time coming, as Richard’s thoughts kept returning to Paul’s angry tirade and what had caused it, as well as working out how he was going to try and free them both from their confines.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little heated. 
> 
> HEAVY SMUT KLAXON!!

When morning dawned, and the hatch opened to give the pair their breakfasts, Paul managed to persuade the kidnappers to let Richard have his cigarettes and spare lighter back, pointing out that the guitarists were highly unlikely to set anything on fire as the smoke could kill them in the unventilated room. Not to mention that Richard without cigarettes would become belligerent, so letting him smoke would be in everyone’s interest.

Once he’d finished his first cigarette, Richard sighed happily, sitting back on the bed, resting against the wall.  
“Thank you Paulchen, you’re a godsend, you know that?”  
“What are friends for?” Paul responded, smiling.  
“Don’t suppose you can persuade them to bring us a tv to pass the time?”  
“Anything else you want me to ask them for?”  
“To let us go?”  
“Something tells me that they’re not likely to agree to that!” Paul replied, ruefully, sitting down next to Richard.  
“It’s going to be a long couple of days until they make the ransom call. Not sure I’d have been able to cope without my smokes, for which I’m grateful to you.”  
“How grateful?” Paul teased, making Richard roll his eyes again. Paul had a way of making him do that frequently.  
He turned slightly so that he was face to face with Paul, and gave him a gentle kiss before replying, “Is that grateful enough for you?”  
“Hmmm, not totally convinced to be honest. I know how much you love your little ‘death sticks’”  
Richard leant back in and kissed Paul again, more intensely this time. Paul’s lips parted, an open invitation to Richard, who accepted – tongue darting in, massaging against Paul’s. Paul pulled Richard closer, enjoying their moment of intimacy.  
“Convinced yet?” Richard enquired, breaking off for air.  
“Not even close!” Paul grinned impishly.

Richard’s eyes narrowed, as he tried to put on a serious face. Apparently his mouth didn’t get that memo, though, as the corners curved upwards as he fought back a laugh at Paul’s expression.  
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying again to get in my pants, Landers?”  
“Maybe because I am?”  
“Well, at least you’re honest about your intentions! What makes you think you’ll succeed?”  
“Because you’re very grateful, and because of this…” Paul said as he leant forward to kiss Richard’s throat. “…and this...”, putting his hand up Richard’s shirt, tweaking one nipple, which hardened instantly as Paul knew from the previous night it would.  
“Not to mention this…” he continued, pushing Richard onto his back, before palming his crotch, causing the younger man to moan softly, not resisting his friend’s actions this time.

Paul kissed Richard, pushing his tongue inside Richard’s mouth – tasting the cigarette he’d just finished – and savouring it. He continued caressing Richard, hands stroking his body, his friend responding with touches of his own, breathing more heavily as they continued. Repeating his actions of yesterday, Paul took hold of Richard’s shirt with both hands, and pulled it over his head.

He bent forward and started kissing and sucking at Richard’s nipples, before trailing a line down his chest to his navel, the younger man groaning louder in appreciation. As Paul moved down Richard’s body, he removed his own shirt, passion heating him up. Feeling more confident in his actions, he grabbed the waistband of Richard’s boxers, pulling them down, careful not to catch Richard’s erection in his haste.

Richard was watching him through half-lidded eyes, but didn’t move or speak to stop him like before. Taking that as permission to continue, Paul moved to kneel between Richard’s legs, and closed his mouth around Richard’s cock. His head bobbed up and down as he licked and sucked Richard’s length, and swirled his tongue around the engorged head, lapping up the leaking precum.

“Oh god, Paul, that feels so good…” Richard panted, his hand reaching down to push Paul’s head down further, so that his penis hit the back of Paul’s throat as he started thrusting his hips upward.

When Richard moved his hand away Paul sat up, making Richard whine at the sudden loss of the wet warmth around his cock. Ignoring him, Paul clambered off the bed and retrieved the hand-gel from the washbasin. Returning to the bed, he took off his briefs, then squirted some of the gel onto one hand, coating his fingers. He knelt back between Richard’s legs, which the younger man had obligingly bent up during his brief absence.

Paul kissed Richard deeply as he applied some of the gel to the other’s entrance, before slowly inserting first one, then a second finger into the tight hole, gently stretching him open. Richard was panting harder as Paul rubbed his fingers inside him, his muscles clenching around them. Certain that he was ready for him, Paul squeezed out more of the gel, coating his cock. That done, he lined himself up with Richard’s entrance, penetrating him slowly but firmly. Richard hissed, the intrusion painful at first, but once Paul was fully sheathed inside him, he was able to relax again. Paul moaned with pleasure, as he began to thrust hard and fast, his need to come heightened from all the years he’d waited for this moment.

It only took a few minutes for him to reach his climax, faster than he would have liked for his first time with Richard, but he was unable to hold his orgasm back any longer. He shouted out Richard’s name as his cum shot out to fill him. He continued thrusting erratically until he was spent, jerking Richard off with one hand, bringing him over the edge, semen spilling over Paul’s hand.

Paul licked his hand clean as he withdrew, swallowing the warm sticky fluid down as he leaned forward to kiss Richard. “You’re a fantastic fuck, Reesh, we should definitely do this more often…”  
Richard made a non-committal grunt, his eyes closed as he waited for his heart-rate to return to normal. Paul laid down by his side, hands lazily drawing patterns on the younger man’s sweat-slick body, pressing kisses on Richard’s neck. Pausing for a moment, he noticed that Richard was starting to drift off to sleep - his breathing less rapid, face peaceful – so he got up and washed his cock, then laid back down, pulling the covers over them both. He wrapped an arm around Richard’s waist and closed his eyes, feeling the happiest he’d been in years.

***

“Reesh?”  
“Hmm?”  
“What made you change your mind?”  
Still in the process of waking up, Richard didn’t immediately grasp Paul’s meaning.  
“About what?”  
“Erm, about having sex with me?”  
The younger man turned his head to look at him, and said with mock-horror, “We had sex? You totally ‘rufee’d’ me then! Help! Police!”  
“Reesh! You’re being an asshole again!”  
“As I recall, you rather enjoyed my asshole!” Richard teased. “But in answer to your question, I did some serious thinking after what you said yesterday. I shouldn’t have led you on, if I wasn’t prepared to go all the way, for that I’m sorry. Plus, I figured you were right about treating this as something new.”  
“Oh my god – call the press – Richard Zee Kay has admitted I was right about something, and he was wrong!”  
“With no independent witnesses or cameras to record the event, it would be your word against mine, and I’ll deny ever saying it!” he laughed.  
“Spoilsport! Can’t I have just one little victory?”  
“Only when we’re alone, and I’ve checked you for a wire!”  
Paul stuck his tongue out in response.  
“Careful, Landers – I might just find a use for that!”  
“Is that a promise?” Paul wiggled his eyebrows.  
“You’re incorrigible Paulchen, y’know?”  
“Since when did you swallow a dictionary?”  
“Hey! I happen to be a whole lot smarter than you obviously think!” he retorted, yawning.  
“Still sleepy?”  
“Yeah, for some reason I’m feeling more tired than normal. Just can’t seem to keep my eyes open!”  
“Well…I’ve checked our schedule, and we’ve nothing booked for today, so you can sleep for as long as you like!”

Richard snorted in amusement. “Having you here definitely makes this more bearable than last time I was incarcerated. Yes, I know more than one big word Paul, so shut it! Make sure you hold all my calls, okay?”  
“What am I – your fucking secretary!?” Paul laughed.  
“Well, you got that half-right!” Richard winked, as he settled back down on the pillow, yawning again.

Paul shook his head, grinning, and cuddled up to Richard, who was remarkably already fast asleep.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, last chapter for today. I'm back at work tomorrow, and may be too tired to upload for a few days. We'll see. Thank you to everyone commenting and/or leaving kudos - it's all appreciated. :o)

It was the day of the scheduled ransom call. When he wasn’t sleeping, or having sex with Paul, Richard had been trying to think of ways for them to either escape, or to make it easier for the others to locate them. As they’d been kept locked in the cell since they made the first call to Till, Richard figured this would be their best -no, scratch that, only – chance to achieve one of those goals.

What action he would take would depend on the situation, and whether Paul would be in any danger as a result. They’d been served their lunch already, so it was just a matter of waiting until the time arrived. Almost as if on cue, the clank of the door being unlocked sounded, and the door swung outward. As before, two of the men were armed, while the third entered with the restraints.  
“Turn around, get on your knees and put your hands behind your back.”

They both complied without question, Richard knowing there wasn’t much point risking punishment without possibility of reward. His hands were tied first, then the gag and blindfold added, before the kidnapper hauled him to his feet and started pulling him to the door. Realising he wasn’t going to be given the same treatment, Paul dared to turn around.  
“Hey, what about me?”  
“You’re staying here, we only need one of you for this one.”  
The door slammed shut, and he was left on his own.

***

Richard was led on the same magical mystery tour as previously, back to the room with the spotlights. There was only one chair this time he discovered, once his blindfold had been removed. The two armed captors had a brief discussion out of Richard’s hearing range, then left the room, leaving him alone with the unarmed kidnapper, who was in the process of manoeuvering Richard to sit on the chair, ready for tying him to it.

When he’d realised that Paul was being left in the cell, Richard immediately dismissed any escape attempt – he wasn’t about to leave Paul behind alone. He’d not really come up with any decent plan to achieve that anyway. The armed men’s departure had provided him with a window of opportunity. Noting where his phone had been placed in readiness, just as he was being pushed down onto the chair, Richard surged forward with upward momentum, and head-butted the kidnapper, making the other man’s nose crunch satisfyingly.

Taking advantage of the other’s surprise, he ran to pick up his phone, which proved difficult with both hands bound behind him. He’d just managed to unlock it and starting to scroll down his contact list to Till’s number when the other two men returned. Immediately spotting what was going on, they ran to Richard and pushed him to the ground, dislodging his phone, before repeatedly kicking him in the stomach and ribs. They only stopped when they heard a snapping sound, which caused Richard to scream in agony.

One of them went to check on their comrade, and to pick up Richard’s phone from where he dropped it, handing it over to the unarmed man.

“Here, keep this unlocked while we take this little shit back and fetch his friend instead.”

They put the blindfold back on Richard, but it was only a precaution at that point as Richard had passed out. The pair hoisted Richard to his feet by an arm each, then dragged him bodily between them back to the cell.  
Paul jumped up off the bed when the door opened, surprised that they were back so soon. He blanched when they pulled Richard through the door and tossed him onto the empty bed.

“What’ve you done to him?” Paul yelled at them.  
“Your girlfriend attacked our colleague and tried to phone for help. We taught him the error of his ways, so now you get to do the call instead.”

Paul didn’t want to leave Richard alone in his current condition, but he really didn’t have much choice. The sooner the call was made, the sooner the money drop would happen and the two of them could go home.

***

Richard was barely conscious when Paul returned to the cell, his face contorted with pain.

“Oh baby, what have they done to you?”

Richard’s t-shirt was ridden up part way, exposing his midriff. A myriad of bruises were blooming in a variety of hues, and when Paul gently lifted his t-shirt so he could see his chest, he was horrified to see that there was almost no patch of skin unblemished. Richard’s eyes were slightly glazed as he turned his head to look at Paul.

“They knocked me to the floor, and gave me a good kicking. I think they’ve broken at least one rib. It seems they took exception to me head-butting their friend and grabbing my phone while they had popped out of the room.”  
“Oh Reesh!” Paul exclaimed, dismayed, “You shouldn’t have done that! They’re going to release us after the ransom’s paid!”  
“We can’t know that for sure – I wanted to give us a chance to be found by the others.”  
Paul stroked Richard’s face tenderly. “I’ll see if I can persuade them to give you a painkiller, love. Just hang in there, the drop’s due tomorrow morning apparently. We’ll be home by tomorrow night.”  
He carefully placed the lightest of kisses on Richard’s lips, then moved to bang on the door for attention.

***

“Hey, how are you feeling? Are you still in any pain?”  
Richard turned his head towards Paul, who’d taken to sitting on the chair, drawn up next to the bed. “Only when…I breathe. I think …maybe I should…give up that habit!” He replied in an attempt at humour, anxious to put Paul at ease.

“Is the painkiller not working? I’ll get another…”  
“It’s…taken the edge off…it’s bearable…”

Paul didn’t look convinced. Richard’s face was pallid, sweat soaking his t-shirt until it was wet through.  
“Baby, we should take your t-shirt off, let it dry out. You can wear mine instead…”  
“Please…don’t…it hurts too much when I move. I just want to sleep…”  
“Okay. Want me to sing you a lullaby?”

Richard snorted, and immediately regretted it. Paul didn’t think he could be any more pale, but Richard turned a shade whiter.  
“That does it…I’m getting another tablet. Quit trying to be brave.”  
“I was the one who was supposed to be looking after you.”  
“And you’re doing an awesome job of that.” Paul said sarcastically, gently raising Richard’s head so that he wouldn’t choke. “I’ve put the tablet in the water, all you need to do is swallow – which I know first hand you’re an expert at!” he added, eyes twinkling.  
Richard managed a wan smile, then opened his lips so that Paul could tip the water into his mouth. He swallowed, then took another mouthful, until Paul was certain he’s swallowed the pill. He put the paper cup down, and brushed his fingers soothingly against Richard’s brow, every gentle caress making Richard’s eyelids droop lower, until he was in sleep’s blissful embrace.

Paul sighed, worried that Richard wouldn’t get the proper medical treatment he needed, before any damage became permanent. He climbed gingerly onto the thin sliver of bed available to him, and pulled the thin blanket over himself, waiting for morning and freedom.


	6. Six

Richard was so still and quiet when Paul woke from a fitful sleep that he had a moment of panic, until he was able to check that he was in fact breathing, and heart still beating.

The hatch opened, and their latest breakfast was pushed through. Paul went to accept the food and drinks, then spoke in a hushed voice to the man on the other side of the door.

“Richard’s in really bad shape. Make sure you phone with our co-ordinates as soon as you’ve got the money, so that the others can get here quickly.”

The other man murmured assent and closed the hatch once more. Paul looked over to Richard’s prone form, before tucking in to his portion of food. It wouldn’t be long now. They’d arranged for the drop to take place during the morning rush hour, making it harder for anyone to follow the vehicle in the melee. Given that they were scheduled to get breakfast at 7am, that meant that the kidnappers would be leaving very soon. All he and Richard had to do now was wait.

***

Paul had returned to bed and was sleeping when the lock clanked, and Till and Christoph ran through the door.

“They’re here – we’ve found them!” Till called out to someone out of visual range.

Paul stirred, and sat up hurriedly. “Are you guys real? I’m not dreaming?”

“No, we’re real. We’re taking you home…” Schneider said, his voice faltering as he registered Richard’s pasty complexion. “What happened?” he asked, sinking to a crouch by the edge of the bed.

Paul got up to give him room before responding. “Reesh tried to slip his bonds to call you, right before the last videocall. He was punished for his attempt. We need to get him out of here quickly.”

“Punished how?” Till demanded.

“It can wait, Till, until we are moving. Paul, do you know where they put your things?”

Oliver appeared at the door, having already located the guitarists’ belongings, which he carried in his arms. Paul accepted his gratefully, dressing in double-quick time.

“Oli, take Paul back to the cars and tell Flake to start the engine running. Schneider, let me get Richard – you need to contact your other friends for a status update.”

The drummer hesitated but nodded, and disappeared from the cell, Ollie and Paul trailing behind him. Till crossed to the bed, concerned because Richard hadn’t shown any signs of waking despite the noise. He had intended to dress Richard before moving him to the SUV, but as soon as he drew back the covers and saw the patchwork of livid colours on his body, he decided speed was of the essence. He grabbed his phone. “Oli, I need you to come back for Richard’s things – I’m going to have to carry him as is.”

Bending down, he scooped Richard up – sheets and blanket included – and, as gently as possible, carried his best friend outside. Ollie passed them on the way, the bassist flicking a quick glance at the unconscious guitarist as he returned to the cell.

Till carried Richard to his car, placing him on the back seat, then shut the door firmly before taking the passenger seat for himself. Paul had been ushered to Ollie’s car, a worried-looking Schneider hovering until he’d seen Richard out of his confinement, and in Till’s care. Schneider joined Paul on Ollie’s back seat – determined to get a full account on the way back to Till’s house.

***

Flake parked Till’s car as close to the huge front door as possible, so that the singer didn’t have too far to carry Richard. As they pulled up Till had retrieved his house keys and handed them to Flake, so that the lanky keyboardist could unlock and open the door while Till picked Richard up out of the vehicle.

Pushing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, Flake got out, opened the rear car door ready for Till, then nipped over to the front door, turning the key in the lock. Slipping through the doorway, he strode the few steps to the alarm control panel and disabled the system by punching in the code, before pulling the door open wider for Till and his burden.

“Flake, can you go ahead of us and check that there’s nothing in our way to Richard’s room, please?”

The other man nodded and ran ahead, moving a few items to one side, removing a pair of shoes that were on one of the stairs leading to the first floor, before finally opening the bedroom door and checking for any additional obstructions. He tutted as he found some dirty laundry dropped in a heap down one side of the bed.

Richard might take good care of his appearance to the outside world, but in a domestic setting he could be quite the slob. Popping the clothes in the laundry basket – which was in the room! – he crossed to the bed and pulled back the duvet so Till could lay Richard straight down.

The doorway filled with Till’s imposing form, the singer being very gentle with his movements, carefully lowering Richard on to the bed.

“When the others arrive, can you ask Schneider to request that the medic from his squad come here immediately? Then it might be an idea if someone takes Paul home so he can clean up and get fresh clothes.”

Flake, who had some rudimentary medical knowledge, nodded, making a quick mental list of what he thought that the medic would probably need to help treat Richard. He patted Till on the arm reassuringly as he exited the room, knowing just how anxious Till would be about his best friend’s condition.

“Oh, Scholle…always needing to be the centre of attention…” Till said quietly, sweeping some of the hair that had fallen forward back off Richard’s face. As his hand brushed against Richard’s forehead, he noticed how cold and clammy the younger man’s skin felt. He hoped that they wouldn’t have to wait long, he wanted to remove the stained clothing but was loath to accidentally cause Richard any more harm by so doing. He started pacing restlessly.

Raised voices floating up from the entrance hall alerted him to the fact that the other three bandmates had arrived, and that an argument had erupted.

“I’m not going home – I’m staying right here with Richard! He’ll panic if I’m not there when he wakes up!”

“Richard needs urgent medical attention, in a clean environment. You might not be able to smell yourself, but the rest of us can! You stink, Paul! I’m not going to let you anywhere near him until you’ve had a bath or shower.”

“Flake’s right, Paul. Go home and get cleaned up –”

“You just want me out of the way so you can try and steal him back from me – admit it! You’re jealous that Richard and I are together now!”

“Jealous! I’m jealous!?” Schneider laughed derisively. “Un-fucking-believable!! I ought to –”

Ollie stepped between them, holding up a hand to Schneider to stop him from continuing, forestalling the threat he could tell was forthcoming. When Schneider backed off, Ollie turned to Paul.

“Paul, we’re all feeling very tired and very stressed. We understand that, due to the new nature of your relationship with Richard…” he held up a hand to cut Schneider off again, who was about to interrupt, “…you want to be there for him at all times, but Flake is correct. It is in Richard’s best interests that you take some time to freshen up. If you’re going to be spending some time here, you’ll need some spare clothing anyway. Also, from what I saw, Richard’s not likely to be waking up any time soon, so even if – as you suggest – Doom did want to try and win Richard back, he’s not going to have the opportunity for quite a while. Once Flake’s given Doom the list of medical items he reckons are needed, Schneider’s going to be too busy trying to arrange it all to do anything else. Let me take you home, I’ll cook you a meal while you’re scrubbing yourself clean, and will bring you straight back here afterwards.”

Ollie didn’t often speak, but when he did, he certainly made it count! Paul was appeased somewhat and agreed, following the bassist to the car, but not without shooting Schneider a venomous glance in passing. Shutting the door after them, Flake turned to Schneider.

“I obviously missed a very interesting conversation on the way here, which you can tell me all about later. This is the list of things I believe your former colleague will need to bring, can you pass it on? I’m sure I don’t need to stress the importance of speed.”

“No. I’ll get right on it. How is he?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Come up when you’ve finished your call, you can sit with him until your comrade arrives.”

Schneider nodded, accepting the list that Flake had scribbled down during the altercation, and reached into his pocket for his phone.

Flake returned to the bedroom, where Till was watching the door expectantly.

“What the hell was all that about?”

“I don’t know the full details yet, but it appears that Paul has told the others that he and Richard are a couple now. Schneider obviously either doesn’t believe him, or doesn’t want to believe him, so there’s a ‘debate’ as to who gets to stay with Richard.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! He doesn’t need that drama around him right now. I might just ban them both from the house, at least until Richard wakes up and tells us his side of the story. Then we can sit back and watch the fur fly!”

Flake sighed. “That first bit might not be a bad idea. Hang on to that thought.”

Schneider appeared at the door, glancing over at Richard’s motionless form on the bed, before looking askance at the other two. Till beckoned him in, rising from his seat so that Schneider could take his place.

Both Till and Flake withdrew from the room, allowing Schneider some privacy. They closed the door softly, then departed for the kitchen while they waited for the medic to arrive.

As Schneider took in the extent of the bruising on Richard’s torso, tears started flowing freely down his cheeks. Richard looked so small and frail against the big bed – an illusion, as neither description was accurate under normal circumstances. Schneider felt an overwhelming urge to take him far away and shield him from the world. He picked up Richard’s nearest hand and held it sandwiched gently between his own two, pressing a kiss to Richard’s palm as he did so.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a good Christmas and didn't overdo the Rammstein vodka and tequila - only so that you've got some left to see in the New Year! ;oD

“Christoph?”

Richard’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was the sweetest sound Schneider had ever heard in his life.

“Hey sleepyhead, nice of you to join us!” Schneider’s jocular tone belied the worry he was feeling.

Richard tried to sit up, but Schneider gently pushed him back into the pillow. “You need to lie still, we’ve got someone on the way to check out your injuries, they’ll be here soon.”

Richard took in his surroundings, realising he was in his room at Till’s house, and not in the cell. “Where’s Paul? Is he ok?”

“We got you both out at the same time. Oliver’s taken him home so he can get some fresh clothes and a shower. He, uh, he said something before he left…about the two of you getting together…um…” Schneider’s voice trailed off as he saw Richard’s face – tears had started running rivers down his cheeks, leaving pink trails through the accumulated grime.

“I’m sorry Christoph, I wanted you to hear it from me first, to explain…” His blue eyes searched Christoph’s face for a clue as to what his reaction would be.

“There’s no need to apologise, you’ve done nothing wrong. I must admit to being a little surprised, but…. Look, the important thing is you’re back, and you’re safe. As long as this is what you want and you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. I won’t get in the way – but remember I’ll always be here if you need me, okay?”

Richard nodded, unable to meet Schneider’s gaze. There was a chime from the front doorbell, making Schneider glance towards the door.

“That’ll be your visitor – play nice!” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Richard’s forehead, before moving to open the bedroom door. 

Behind his turned back, Richard was hastily trying to wipe away the tears from his face. He hated appearing vulnerable in front of anyone other than Christoph or Till, neither of whom never teased him about his softer side. Till guided an unfamiliar woman through the bedroom door.

“Hey Schneider – how’ve you been?”

“Great, thanks, Frankie. What about you?”

“Oh, you know – busy saving the other’s asses.”

“So, no change there then. Frankie – this is Richard, he’s received some injuries during the recent incident – I assume the others brought you up to speed – we’d like you to check him over if you could please. Richard – this is Frankie – she works alongside my former platoon mates. She’s a very skilled medic.”

Frankie walked over to the bed. “Hi Richard, pleased to meet you.”

They shook hands, Richard wincing slightly from the movement. “Likewise, Frankie…?”

“Short from Francesca, but no one calls me that – on pain of pain.”

“Shouldn’t that be ‘on pain of death’?”

“Nah, the suffering stops with death, I like to let the pain linger when punishing people.” She replied with a grin.

“Doesn’t that go against the Hippocratic Oath?”

“Yes, I’m complicated like that – keeps life interesting! Now, let’s get your clothes off!”

“That’s usually his line!” Till chuckled from the doorway, amused at the sight of Richard blushing in response.

“Once you’ve done smirking, perhaps you can help with lifting Richard up and removing the dirty sheets and his t-shirt once I’ve cut it off him. I’m sure he can afford a new one.” Frankie admonished Till, as she reached into her kit bag for some scissors. Once the material had been cut away, and Richard lowered back down, Frankie examined his injuries.

“Tell me what happened, and what treatment you’ve had since.”

Richard looked over at Till and Schneider, wondering how much he should say. Schneider guessed what he was thinking. “You can trust Frankie, she won’t disclose anything we tell her to anyone that we haven’t given clearance to.”

Reassured by Schneider’s trust in her, Richard gave a brief summary. “While we were being held captive, I attempted to send a call for help but was caught before I could make it, and was given a kicking by two of them. Paul said they dragged me unconscious back to the cell. He somehow managed to persuade them to let me have some painkillers, and since then I’ve been sleeping a lot. I’d only just woken up again before you arrived. That’s about it.”

“Does it hurt when I press here?” Frankie asked as she gently touched his side. “How about here…or here?” 

Richard let out a loud yelp when her hands pressed the skin over his ribs. “I forgot to mention – I felt something crack while they were kicking me.”

“Yes, well – it feels like a couple of ribs are broken, the rest is just bruising, albeit severe, which should fade relatively quickly. We can’t really splint or bind the ribs, but once you’ve been cleaned up, we can put some padding over this side – more as a reminder to be careful than as a protective cushion. I’m not sure why the painkillers have been making you sleep so much, if it is the pills that are responsible. I’d like to take a blood sample and run some tests if that’s okay – I want to make sure we haven’t missed anything. Do you happen to know what they gave you?”

“I was pretty much out of it, Paul dropped the tablets in a cup of water for me to swallow – it kinda looked like a small paracetamol – maybe you could ask him if he knows?”

Frankie checked Richard’s vision, blood pressure and temperature, then swabbed a patch of skin on his inner arm before inserting a needle, and filling a few vials with his blood - each with a different colour stopper – labelling them carefully for later testing. Reaching into her kitbag again, she pulled out a telescopic pole with a hook at the top, and hung a bag with saline solution from it. She then swabbed the back of Richard’s left hand, and inserted a canula, before connecting it to the drip.

“Okay, spend the rest of the day drinking as much as possible, and eating if you can. You’re dehydrated and slightly malnourished. From tomorrow, you should try getting up and moving about, excessive amounts of rest isn’t good for healing broken ribs, you’re better off staying upright. Try sleeping propped up at an angle if you can. Until we know what painkillers you were given, I would suggest only taking ibuprofen or paracetamol. I’ll return tomorrow to check on your progress and remove the drip. But before you do anything else, you need to get cleaned up.”

“Thank you, Frankie.”

“Don’t mention it. Schneider, I need to talk to you before I go.”

“After you…” Schneider followed Frankie out onto the landing and down the stairs.

Paul and Ollie had just returned, and on hearing from Flake that Richard had woken up, he thundered up the stairs – nearly knocking Till flying as he barged into the bedroom. Till filled Paul in on Frankie’s assessment, passing him a bowl of hot water and a washcloth so that he could bathe Richard, then proceeding downstairs to join the others where they’d gathered in the lounge.

***

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Richard, but are you sure he was being honest about not knowing what tablets he was taking?”

“If he was in a lot of pain, it’s possible he might not have paid it much attention, especially if it worked. Why?”

“With him saying it looked like a small paracetamol, I immediately thought of diazepam, which as I’m sure you know is a tranquiliser – not a painkiller. It would explain the drowsiness. If he’s not had one since yesterday, that would account for him starting to come around, but as the effects wear off he’ll begin to notice the pain more.”

“Will you be able to determine what he’s taken from the blood-tests?”

“Hopefully, yes. I’ll keep you updated. On another note, the team believe they may have tracked down one of the kidnappers. It took longer than anticipated as they were smart enough to switch the money into something else, so the RFID tags in the bags only took them so far. They torched the first vehicle too. The others will update you when they’ve got a solid lead.”

Schneider left with Frankie, wanting to catch up a little more and so as not to crowd Richard and Paul, Flake and Ollie left soon after. Till had promised to contact Schneider if there were any significant changes in Richard’s condition. 

Till climbed backup the stairs and made his way to Richard’s room, knocking before entering. Paul was gently washing the rest of the dirt from Richard’s battered body, wringing out the washcloth before setting the bowl of dirty water aside and picking up the towel to pat him dry. Paul smiled at Till and put a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture – Richard was propped up on a large pile of pillows, passed out.

“How’s he doing?” Till asked, quietly.

“He’s resting. Whatever the medic has given him seems to have helped – he doesn’t look as if he’s in as much pain, and his colour’s returning.”

Till nodded, satisfied with Paul’s analysis. “What about you? We’ve not had the chance to talk yet…”

“I’m okay. I think it helped having company – someone to think of and look after other than myself. I think after a decent night’s sleep, and a hot meal or two, I’ll be back to normal.”

“I can make you a bed up in the spare guest room if you want to stay close to Richard…”

“Thanks, but we’re used to sharing a bed now, one much smaller than this, so I’ll be okay taking the other side of it. That way, I can monitor Richard through the night, in case there are any changes. You don’t mind, do you?” Paul’s question had a challenging undertone, which Till didn’t fail to notice.

He still felt it was strange that Richard was in a relationship with Paul, even under the highly unusual circumstances, but Schneider had told him that Richard had confirmed it when he woke. With that knowledge in mind, he couldn’t really refuse Paul, otherwise he would be seen to be picking sides.

“No – of course not – I just thought you both might sleep better in separate beds. But if you prefer to share and can put up with Richard’s snoring, be my guest – less work for me!” he added with a smile. “I’ll leave you to get settled in, help yourself to food and drink. Let me know if you need anything you can’t find.”


	8. Eight

The next few days were pretty uneventful. Frankie returned to remove the saline drip - but ended up replacing the bag instead, as Richard still seemed to be having difficulty remaining conscious for longer than a few minutes at any time, and as a result was unable to take enough food and drink onboard by himself.

She raised her concerns with Till when they were alone, on her third return visit. “If it was diazepam or something else similar that Richard had been given instead of painkillers, the effects should have worn off by now. The only reason I can think of why he’s still suffering the effects now is if –”

“- he’s still taking them.” Till finished for her, frowning.

“Yes, but I can’t see anything within his easy reach, without making my search obvious.”

“Leave it to me, I’ll take a look later. When will you get the results of the blood tests?”

“I was unable to get a rush on them without raising flags for a superior officer to notice, but I should get them back from the lab tomorrow. Should I tell Schneider about my theory?”

“Best not to say anything until it’s been confirmed, at which point I’ll let him know myself.”

Frankie nodded and took her leave. Once she’d stepped outside, Till shut the door, deep in thought. Finally reaching a decision he dug his phone out of his trouser pocket and called Flake. It was pretty late in the day to do anything now, so he arranged for the keyboard player to visit in the morning.

***

“Hey, Flake! What are you doing here?” Paul asked between mouthfuls of bacon and sausage.

“I thought, with you having been cooped up in here with Till for days, that you might want to join me for lunch and maybe a spot of shopping for any essentials you might need…”

“Hmm, I suppose spending a few hours away won’t hurt – Richard sleeps most of the time at the moment anyway, so he probably won’t miss me for a while. I could do with picking up a couple of things I forgot to get from my house… would you mind if we stop off there too?”

“Not at all. How soon do you think you’ll be ready?”

Paul washed down the last bit of his fried breakfast with a gulp of coffee. “Just give me a moment for a quick wash, then I’ll grab my shoes and coat.”

He hurried from the kitchen and disappeared upstairs. Flake picked up the dirty plate and mug from the solid oak table, and loaded them and the cutlery into Till’s dishwasher. Apparently being a slob was a recurring theme for their guitarists. Till popped into the kitchen, after a quick glance at the short figure ascending the staircase. “Well?”

“He’s agreed to the trip. I’ll do my best to keep him out for as long as possible, until I get your message that it’s okay to bring him back.”

“I’m sure we won’t need too long, I’ll try to make sure your torture is as short as possible. Thanks for doing this, Flake – I owe you one.”

“Oh, you’ll owe me plenty for this, I assure you!” Flake grinned.

Till gave Flake a pat on the shoulder. Noticing that Flake had been loading the dishwasher before his arrival, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t suppose you want a second job as a cleaner? He’s worse than Richard when it comes to cleaning up after himself!”

“I heard that!” Paul piped up as he returned to the room. “I would’ve cleaned up if Flake hadn’t interrupted me…”

“Oh, it’s my fault is it? That settles it – you’re paying for lunch!”

Flake and Paul left, the latter talking animatedly all the way to the car. Locking the front door, Till made his way up the stairs and in to Richard’s room. The younger man was sleeping peacefully, an almost serene look on his face, so Till moved about as quietly as possible for a man of his stature.

Checking the drawer of the nightstand nearest to Richard, his search for the suspect tablets came up empty. Some ibuprofen was on the top of the stand, next to the lamp and a glass of water – but after a cursory inspection Till found that all the blister packs inside were unopened.

He moved to the stand on the other side of the bed. Lube and condoms aplenty in that drawer, but no meds of any description. A quick check under the pillows and duvet on what was now Paul’s side of the bed also proved fruitless. The same for the jacket discarded haphazardly on the chair.

Till was about ready to disturb Richard so he could check that side of the bed, when he noticed the jeans that Paul had been wearing the day before poking out from underneath the bed. He bent down and picked them up, hearing a rattling sound as he did so. He ferreted around in the pockets until he located the pill bottle – a small brown plastic one with a safety screw cap, and a fading pharmacy label identifying the contents as Valium – a former name for diazepam. There were a number of tablets still left inside. Till swore under his breath, and exited the room quickly, bottle in hand.

***

“Allo, Frankie? It’s Till. I’ve found a bottle containing Valium, there are quite a few pills left.”

“Hello, Till – you’ve saved me a call. The test results are back, and they confirm what you’ve just told me. With the high concentration in Richard’s blood, I believe that he has been given more than the recommended dose at shorter intervals than is advisable. You need to get him off them as soon as possible.”

“I could just throw them away, but that will reveal that someone has been snooping. Do you happen to have any dummy pills?”

“Placebos, you mean? Yes, I can get my hands on some fake diazepam. Could you open the bottle, count how many tablets there are, and give me the dimensions, along with any markings, so I can ensure an exact match, please?”

Frankie listened while Till got the answers she needed, then hung up. Making her way to the secure cabinet in her office, she unlocked the doors – moving various boxes and bottles aside until she found what she was looking for. Double-checking that the pills she’d removed were identical to the ones Richard had been given (apart from the obvious difference in potency), she counted out the required quantity and placed them in a small, clear, resealable plastic baggie. She returned the surplus to the cabinet, locked it again, then picked up her car keys from her desk.

***

Till let Frankie in, and led her to the kitchen for a final comparison of the tablets, before emptying the Valium into a spare baggie and replacing them with the placebos.

“With Richard taking these, you should soon see him staying awake more and consequently feeling more pain. As there is a point where people’s bodies become tolerant of certain medications, thereby reducing their effectiveness. You can use that explanation if anyone starts questioning the changes. Once he’s eating and drinking more normally, I can come back to remove the IV. I’ll replace the current one while I’m here, and leave a couple more with you. You’ve seen how to change them, right?” Till nodded. “Cool, you’re in charge of that then while I’m not here. Have my colleagues been in touch, by the way?”

“Yes, I’ve arranged to meet up with them later today at Schneider’s place. Will you be joining us?”

“That depends on whether or not my services are required. They want to discuss the various options for extracting information from prisoners – hypothetically speaking of course…”

They ascended the stairs, and while Frankie busied herself changing the saline bag and doing a cursory re-examination of Richard’s torso, Till made sure he returned the bottle of tablets to the pocket he’d found them in. Their respective tasks completed, they left Richard alone in his room once more, then said their goodbyes.

Till sent a text to Flake to let him know that the coast was clear for him to bring Paul back. Having discovered the pills, Till still couldn’t be sure of Paul’s motives. The guitarist would definitely have known what he’d been giving to Richard. What Till couldn’t work out was what his reasons for continuing with them after their return. He was perfectly aware of Richard’s problems with addiction, so he had to know that he was risking Richard getting hooked again by giving him tranquilisers on a regular basis. He could think of no scenario where that would benefit anyone apart from dealers.

Maybe Paul thought that he was doing Richard a favour by keeping him unconscious while he healed, despite the advice given to the contrary? Till found himself hoping that this was indeed the case. He’d just have to watch and wait. It would likely take a day or two for the diazepam to be fully out of Richard’s system, given its current levels. Perhaps the reasons would be revealed then….


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!

“Come on in, Till – the others are already here.” Schneider opened the door wider to allow Till entrance.

Till shrugged off his coat and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall, before slipping off his shoes to walk in socked feet to Schneider’s lounge. The ‘others’ in attendance were the members of Schneider’s old platoon who had helped with the rescue mission, plus Ollie and Flake. Till had left Paul at home looking after Richard. They all exchanged greetings before settling down to discuss the matter at hand.

One of the soldiers took the lead following prompting from Schneider. “Till, I understand that Frankie told you that we’d made some progress with locating the perps?”

“That’s right, but she didn’t go into any detail.”

“Well, for the benefit of your friends here, and to bring you completely up to speed, this is where we’re at:

We followed the vehicle used for the ransom pick-up until we lost it in traffic, but we picked up the signal from the tracking chip soon after and followed that to the point where the signal winked out. By the time we reached that location the perps’ vehicle was well alight, with tread-marks nearby indicating that the driver had switched to a new vehicle. We assume that they’d transferred the money to new containers too, leaving our bags behind in the conflagration as a means to destroy potential evidence.

If they’d taken more time, they could have erased the tyre marks from the damp soil, but they appear to have been in a hurry to leave. This worked to our advantage. After analysing the tread patterns, we were able to narrow down the possible make and model of the new vehicle. We then searched traffic cam and other CCTV footage from the vicinity within a 2-hour time-frame, and were rewarded with images not only of the truck, but the driver also. Using information from certain government department officials that we have an ‘understanding’ with, we obtained the most recent known name and address of said driver. This morning we extracted the perp and have them in holding at a secure location.

So far he’s not given anything up, so we need to ask you, as our contractors; how far do you want us to take this? We can put the squeeze on him using a variety of methods, but we need to know how much rein your consciences will grant us, in order to find the other perps involved?”

“Whatever you need to do,” Schneider said without hesitation. “Don’t hold back. I want those bastards found and dealt with as soon as possible.”

The other three looked at each other and Schneider, gauging what each of them was feeling. Surprisingly, it was Ollie who added his opinion next. “Just like Doom said, do whatever you need to – no holds barred.”

Till and Flake added their consent.

“Okay, as you gentlemen are in complete agreement, we can proceed as planned. We’ll not give you any details, thus giving you plausible deniability should the need arise. Once we have more news, we’ll contact you.

***

A number of days passed without them hearing from the soldiers. Meanwhile, Richard had been managing to stay awake for longer periods and, as Frankie had predicted, began to feel the pain from his injuries. When Paul realised that the Valium was no longer having the same effect as before, he began to worry – he thought that he’d overdone the dosage to the point where Richard’s body had become not only tolerant, but perhaps addicted, to the drug.

He was relieved when the ibuprofen seemed to at least take the edge off Richard’s pain, so he started to reduce the frequency of the Valium to compensate. Late in the afternoon of his second day of wakefulness, Till suggested that Richard join him and Paul downstairs for a meal, and to try walking around for a bit, to get his muscles working again. Till removed the cannula and pushed the IV drip to one side so that Richard wouldn’t get tangled up.

Richard was a little wobbly at first, and Paul supported him as a precaution while he descended the stairs. He was glad to be moving about again, staying in one position for extended periods was resulting in soreness where his body was in contact with the mattress. Weirdly, his ass felt particularly sensitive, but as his sleeping position consisted of him being propped up on pillows, the weight of his upper body would be pushing down on his backside. Add to that the fact that as he’d not been eating much, he’d not yet needed to take a dump, but that would no doubt change soon now that he was eating again. He made a mental note to check the bathroom cabinet for laxatives.

With him becoming mobile again, he was glad to be able to speak with someone other than Paul when he wanted. He’d tried encouraging Paul to go off and do things without him, even if only in another part of the house, but he’d refused to leave Richard by himself for more than a couple of minutes. Richard hadn’t the heart to tell him that he was actually beginning to get on his nerves with his clinginess, especially after everything they’d been through together. He just hoped that, as his condition improved, that Paul wouldn’t feel the need to coddle him so much, and would go off on his own accord.

***

“I’m not feeling up to it yet, Paul – can’t you get that into your head?” Richard was exasperated.

“I get that ever since we got back you’ve not wanted to fuck even once. Or rather, you’ve not wanted to fuck me. Looks like I was right after all about you being a jerk. You used me when it was convenient for you, and now you’re throwing me aside!”

“It’s not like that at all! We’ve only been back just over a week - I’ve been injured for all that time, and unconscious for a good portion of it too! I’m still healing – we can have sex when I’m recovered. It won’t be for much longer…”

“You’ve been well enough to go for a couple of walks with Till, so you should be well enough for sex! You clearly don’t want me touching you now I’m not your only company!”

“That’s not fair, Paul! They’re hardly the same – walking doesn’t impact on my ribs, and sex is a far more physical activity. It’s not like I could just lie back and think of Germany while you fuck me…”

“Why not? It works for a lot of women, apparently, and you’re not much different…”

“Give it a rest, will you? We’ll have plenty of sex when I’m better, I just need a little more time – that’s all.”

Realising that Richard wasn’t going to relent any time soon, Paul grabbed his jacket and stomped to the bedroom door – flinging it open with enough force for the door handle to chip the paint off the wall as it banged into it.

“Where are you going?”

“What do you care? You obviously don’t want me around, so I’m going out. Who’d have thought that a slut like you could be so frigid!?”

Not waiting for Richard’s response, Paul thundered down the stairs, punching in Flake’s number on his phone keypad as he did so. He practically slammed the door behind him in his haste to get out.

Till waited a moment for the dust to settle before emerging from the kitchen. Richard had just reached the bottom stair, and was headed his way, his face despondent.

“Got any vodka, Till?”

“It’s a bit early in the day for that, don’t you think?”

“Not today, it’s not…”

“What was all that shouting about? You two have your first lovers’ tiff?”

Richard gave a big sigh as he followed Till back into the kitchen, rubbing his face wearily, noting the stubble on his jaw as he did so. “Yeah, I guess you couldn’t miss it, huh?”

“I didn’t catch the words themselves, but I heard your raised voices. Need to talk?”

Richard pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down heavily. “You’ll probably laugh at this, but I’m a jerk because Paul wanted to have sex, but I don’t feel up to it yet, I’m too sore. Oh, and he called me a frigid slut…”

“He called you a what now? Is he tired of breathing?” Till poured a shot of vodka, hesitated for a moment before making a double, and passed the glass to Richard. “Here you go – just promise you won’t take any painkillers for a few hours.”

“Pity. I could do with getting totally hammered right now.”

“So, you not wanting sex – is it really because of your injuries, or because it’s Paul?”

“As I keep on telling him, it’s because I’m too sore – down my side, my back, my ass, and…”

“Your ass?” Till interrupted, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, my ass - from how I’ve been sleeping upright – and most of all, my head – he never shuts up for one moment!”

Till laughed. “Well, now you know he’ll leave in a huff when you get in a fight, maybe you should pick them more often - so you can get some peace and quiet!”

Richard downed his vodka and reached out for the bottle so that he could refill his glass.

“Last one, Reesh – don’t overdo it. You don’t want to make yourself ill on top of everything else.”

Richard pulled a face, but didn’t argue. Till’s phone rang just as he picked up the bottle to return it to its usual spot in a cabinet. Hand free again, Till answered the call.

“Allo? Hi Frankie, how are you? What?... Yes, I can gather them all here – what time? Okay… No, he’s out at the minute, why?”

Richard looked up, curious, as from Till’s responses it sounded as though Frankie was asking about Paul. He found Till looking his way, a frown settling on his face.

“What?” Richard mouthed at him.

Till held his hand up signalling for Richard to wait, he listened to Frankie a moment longer before saying goodbye and disconnecting.

“Well?” Richard asked.

“Frankie says that the squad has made some significant progress, and asks that we all gather here as soon as possible for a briefing. They’re on their way here now.”

“Was she asking about Paul?”

“Yes – she was just checking who was here and who we’d have to wait for. Just ticking all the relevant boxes, I guess.”

Richard could tell that Till was holding something back, but he had never known Till do things without good reason, and he’d probably find out what it was soon enough, from the sounds of things. “Oh, okay. I guess I better get a coffee and make myself look vaguely human if we’re having company. There goes my hopes of having a quiet morning….”

“You go ahead and make yourself pretty – I’ll make us both a coffee and bring yours up when it’s ready.”


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is revealed...

While Richard was getting a shower, Till phoned the other band members to tell them to come over. The only person he didn’t call was Paul – as per Frankie’s suggestion. She said the reason why would soon become clear.

That comment had Till concerned – it sounded as there was going to be some revelation about Paul that they might not like – so he would need to keep an eye on Richard when whatever it was, was announced.

He sighed, and finished making the coffees, putting on his best poker-face in case Richard was out of the shower by the time he arrived with the drinks. But knowing Richard, he’d probably be in the shower a good fifteen minutes, and then take even longer getting ready – what with the hair gel, and moisturisers and who knows what that the guitarist never went anywhere without. It was a good job that both main bedrooms were en-suite – he couldn’t imagine having to share one with Richard these days.

As he’d anticipated, Richard was still in the bathroom, which Till was thankful for. He wasn’t sure how to answer any questions his friend might have without lying to him, but hopefully, with the arrival of the other band members, he could be distracted until their other ‘guests’ turned up. The doorbell rang, pulling him out of his thoughts, and he hurried to the front door. Opening it, he discovered Schneider on the doorstep.

“Why did you ring the bell, when I’ve given you a key, Doom?”

“You only gave me the key for when I’m stopping over with Richard, so, under the current circumstances, I thought that it would be inappropriate to let myself in. I guess I really ought to give it back to you…” he added, as he started to remove it from his bunch of keys.

“Hold on to it – aside from the fact that you’re welcome here anytime, whether you are with Richard or not, it’s always handy to have another person holding a spare key in case I lose mine! Come on in, and make yourself at home.”

Schneider nodded, and stepped inside, pausing to remove his coat and shoes before making his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on and prepare drinks for himself and the others. It didn’t take long for Ollie and Flake to join them, with Richard arriving last of all, despite having the shortest distance to travel. His bandmates were delighted to see him up and about, and looking much better than the last time they’d seen him. They took it in turns to give him gentle hugs and pats on the back – mindful of his broken ribs – and expressed how happy they were to see him in recovery.

While they were embracing him, the doorbell chimed again. Till withdrew from the lounge to answer the door. It turned out that it was the tech-guy that had been at Schneider’s place during the ransom call, brandishing a laptop bag.

“Hello Herr Lindemann, Frankie said that you would be expecting me?”

“Yes. Please, come in – the others are gathered through here…”

They entered the lounge, and after greetings had been exchanged, the techie (who Till remembered had previously introduced himself as Karl) asked, “Is there somewhere I can plug this in, and place it for you all to view?”

After a couple of minutes spent rearranging seating, and a coffee table brought forward on which to place the laptop, Karl used a wi-fi keyboard and mouse to bring up video files, while he explained what they were watching.

“As you know, we’ve had one of the perps in custody already, but he wasn’t talking. Following your green-light we injected him with sodium thiopental, a drug commonly referred to as a ‘truth serum’, and before long we were able to extract vital information about their operation. He started by giving up the names of the other two men involved with the physical aspect of the kidnapping….”

“Hang on a minute – shouldn’t we wait for Paul to arrive, so he can watch this too? He was kidnapped as well as me…” Richard asked, feeling both confused by the other guitarist’s absence, and a little sick watching the video of the kidnapper, hearing his voice again was bringing memories crashing back.

Karl paused the video, and raised a questioning eyebrow at Till, who replied, “Let it play on a little longer – we can always fill him in later, and I’m sure Karl will let us have a copy of the file too. Let’s watch the video to the end now that we’ve started.”

They turned their attention back to the laptop, and Karl pressed play on the video. The kidnapper told his off-screen captors where he’d put his share of the money, and where they could find his two co-conspirators.

“So, was this just a play to make some quick money?” a digitally disguised voice could be heard asking. “Or did you have some other motive for kidnapping the two guitarists? Maybe you don’t like their music, was that it?”

“No, it was definitely for the money – I’d never even heard of them or their stupid band before that guy Paul approached us with his plan…”

“What?” Richard’s voice was barely audible, his face starting to drain of colour. The others were looking at each other with stunned expressions – unsure if they’d heard correctly.

The video continued playing. “Yeah – he told us that we could make a lot of money for just a few days’ work. Told us where and when to grab them…he’d got it all planned out…”

If he hadn’t already been sitting down, Richard’s knees would have buckled under him. His vision was blurring, and his head felt like it was spinning. Till, seated next to him, could see the signs and got ready to grab the nearby waste bin for Richard to throw up in, should it prove necessary.

Karl paused the video again. “We managed to grab the other two perps, and, due to the seriousness of this scumbag’s allegations, interrogated them separately. They both corroborated his story. We also heard back from another of our colleagues who had been analysing the CCTV footage from the club – that you gave us – along with some other footage that we’d manage to acquire from a building on the opposite side of the street from the club’s rear exit. Although there was no sound on either bit of footage, we have a colleague who lip-reads, and she was able to put together the conversation outside the club between one of the perps and your friend Paul prior to the abduction.”

He opened up a new file. This one showed a woman in military uniform observing footage, pausing it, then relaying what she’d observed being spoken in the video. While they were watching this latest file, the front door opened, and Paul let himself in. Noting all the coats hung up in the hallway, he became curious and walked to the lounge doorway.

“Hey, is there a party going on and someone forgot to invite me?” It was only then that he took in the scene, the video that was continuing to play on the laptop, and realised he’d been found out. He managed to get out the words, “Reesh – I can explain – it was a joke…” before Richard let out a howl of equal parts anguish and rage, and launched himself in Paul’s direction.

Even as Till made a grab for Richard, Paul turned tail and ran out of the house, pressing the button on the key-fob to unlock his car door.

“Let go of me Till – I want to kill the bastard!”

Till wouldn’t release his hold, instead calling on Schneider for back-up. “Doom, take Reesh upstairs and keep him there until he calms down.”

“Why not let him go, so he can kill Paul?” Schneider asked, furious in his own right, but he’d stopped behind out of his concern for Richard rather than going after Paul himself.

“Think it through – Richard kills Paul, Richard gets arrested and incarcerated… need I say more?”

“Ah, yes – you’re right. Come on, Reesh…”

Richard had been struggling against Till’s tight grip all the while, swearing profusely, but - mainly because of his still-healing injuries, together with the lack of energy from not having eaten much – he was unable to wriggle free. Consequently, when Schneider took hold of him and hoisted him over his shoulder – like a rather attractive sack of potatoes, Till mused – he was similarly incapacitated. He cursed both Till and Schneider heavily as he was carried up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Karl had stopped the footage, and handed a memory card with the files to Till before leaving, saying that the team would await further instructions from the band. Flake and Ollie were standing around, looking bewildered.

“What the fuck just happened?” Flake demanded, eloquently.

Till looked over at the pair of them, he’d had some fore-warning of the nature of the videos, and therefore was far less stunned by the revelation they contained. “Apparently Paul masterminded the whole kidnapping, as a means to get closer to Richard. His plan had worked, up until this morning at least. We need to get our hands on him, but I very much doubt he’ll answer his door to me. He definitely won’t for Schneider, unless he’s feeling suicidal, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him and Richard within a mile of each other.”

“He might let me in, as his oldest friend…and I have a key to his house too. Do you want me to try?”

“Yes, but take Ollie with you for back-up. We no longer know what Paul is capable of. If it’s at all possible, find some way of restraining him, and keep him at his place until I can join you. Here – take this as a precaution…” Till crossed to a locked cupboard, took out a key and opened it, withdrawing a pistol and some ammunition, which he handed to Ollie.

The pair of them nodded, and retrieved their coats from the hooks in the hallway before setting out. Till headed up the stairs, to see if Schneider needed any assistance. He was surprised to note that the door to Richard’s room was open, and the room empty. Then he heard Richard’s voice coming from the direction of his own bedroom – he was screaming and shouting at Schneider to let him out, which the drummer evidently had no intention of doing.

It took a moment for the singer to work out why Schneider would take Richard into his room instead of Richard’s, but a quick second glance at the latter revealed numerous items belonging to Paul strewn about the room. Schneider had apparently had the foresight to take Richard somewhere with fewer possible triggers.

“Do you need a hand, Doom?” Till called out through the wooden door, wincing as he heard something break inside the room, where Richard was apparently taking his anger out on innocent inanimate objects.

“No, I’m fine here. I can’t say the same for your room, though. You were planning on redecorating soon, right?”

Till grimaced. “Sounds like I won’t have much of a choice. I’ll leave you two boys to it. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Schneider and Till’s blasé attitudes seemed to infuriate Richard even more, as he launched a fresh assault on the drummer.


	11. Eleven

Schneider stood in front of the bedroom door, blocking it off from Richard. The younger man was trying everything in his power to get the drummer to move – punching and kicking him repeatedly, calling him every name under the sun – but Schneider didn’t move a muscle, even to defend himself against the onslaught.

He was definitely going to have some interesting bruises later on. He let Richard continue to pound him with his fists, knowing it was only a matter of time before Richard tired himself out.

The punches started slowing and becoming more sloppy as Richard’s muscles began to ache from the unfamiliar exertion. Eventually he stopped, and he sagged forward against Schneider’s chest, the drummer wrapping his arms around Richard so that he wouldn’t drop to the floor now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Richard’s breaths were coming in juddering gulps, his chest heaving with the effort. Schneider held him in place – a calming presence – while Richard worked through his turbulent thoughts and emotions. It wasn’t long before his entire body started shaking, and Schneider realised that Richard was possibly going into shock.

He gently coaxed him over to Till’s large bed, and pulling a blanket off the end where it lay neatly folded, he wrapped it loosely around Richard and got him to lie down. Schneider pulled his phone from his pocket and called Till, asking him to bring a cup of tea up for Richard, before returning his attention to the guitarist.

“Try to breathe normally, Richard. Till’s going to be here with a drink in a minute. We’ll look after you, sweetheart. I promise.”

Richard’s eyes were closed, but tears still managed to leak out from under his long eyelashes, sliding sideways down his cheeks and onto the pillow. Seeing his love so distraught caused Schneider pain, and he vowed to do whatever it took to punish Paul for his callous treatment of Richard.

Till arrived with the tea, bringing a second mug for Schneider. “Thanks, Till. Reesh, do you feel up to having a few sips?”

Richard’s breathing was more controlled, and his heart no longer seemed to be trying to rip itself free of his ribcage like one of HR Giger’s alien chest-bursters. He opened his eyes and looked up at both of their concerned faces. “Could you give me a couple of minutes?”

Schneider began to rise from the edge of the bed. “Do you want us to leave?”

“No – I meant I just want a couple of minutes before passing me the mug – my hands are still shaking. I might drop it.”

Schneider sat back down, looking relieved. He really didn’t want Richard to be left on his own with his current state of mind – even if that meant him going, and someone else (Till) staying in his place. 

“Um, would you prefer Till to stay with you instead of me? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable…”

“No – please stay, you make me feel safe. You both do.” He added, not wanting to insult Till or make him feel unappreciated.

Till chose to be diplomatic. “That’s good to know, Scholle. But I think, at the moment, that three’s a crowd. You should rest, and as Schneider is staying with you, I can get on with tidying up downstairs. Take as long as you need.”

As he turned to leave the room, he spotted the remains of the object Richard had hurled toward Schneider earlier. Picking it up, he shook his head ruefully and headed for the door.

“I’m sorry about your lamp, Till.”

The singer laughed. “Don’t worry about it Scholle. It was a hideous gift from an ex-girlfriend. I hadn’t got around to replacing it yet, so you’ve done me a favour!”

With that he left the room, shutting the door behind him so that Richard and Schneider could have as much peace and quiet as possible.

After Till had departed, Richard decided that he was ready to try his tea. Schneider waited while Richard propped himself up into a sitting position, then passed him the mug. Richard sipped at it slowly, letting the warm liquid spread through him, helping to ease some of his tension that was knotting his muscles. When he’d emptied his mug he laid back down, turning onto his uninjured side to look over to Schneider.

“Doom?”

“Hmm?” Schneider replied, as he downed some of his own drink.

“Would you mind coming over here and giving me a cuddle?”

Schneider smiled. “Of course I don’t mind – I love cuddling my fluffy hedgehog!”

Draining the last bit of tea, he put down his mug and scooted further on to the bed. Richard lifted up the edge of the blanket so that Schneider could join him underneath. Once he was settled, Richard edged closer to him, resting his head in the crook of his shoulder. He draped an arm around Schneider’s waist, and clutched a fistful of the back of Schneider’s shirt. Letting out a deep breath, he closed his eyes again, relaxing in the familiar warm comfort of his former lover’s embrace.

***

Over on the other side of Berlin, Flake and Ollie had just arrived at Paul’s residence. The tall, wooden gates were unlocked and had been pushed open wide, allowing easy access for vehicles onto the asphalt drive. Flake parked the car and the two of them unfolded themselves from their respective car seats.

Ollie knocked on Paul’s front door and waited for an answer, while Flake strolled around to the rear of the property, just in case Paul tried to do a runner from the back door. But as Paul’s car wasn’t on the drive, or on the street out front, he assumed that Paul wasn’t currently at home. After a minute without any signs of movement from inside the house, Flake reached into his trouser pocket for his copy of Paul’s house keys and let himself in, calling out as he did so.

“Paul! Are you home? We just want to talk…”

The house was silent, save for the ticking of the clock in the entrance hall, as Flake made his way though the house to the front door. He unlocked it and let Ollie in.

“We better do a search of each room just to be sure that he’s not home before we call Till. I’ll do the downstairs rooms and the cellar.”

“Meaning I get to go in Paul’s bedroom?” Ollie commented, making a face. “I may need therapy after that!”

“Well, as Richard will probably need a lifetime of sessions after today, you could see if you can get a ‘two for one’ offer.” Flake retorted humourlessly.

Ollie felt guilty then for joking about therapy. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Richard must be thinking and feeling right about now. “Poor Reesh, he doesn’t deserve any of this. I’m still struggling to wrap my head around it. How could Paul do that to him?”

Flake removed his hat, gave his head a scratch, before replacing it, and pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. Mannerisms that Ollie had learned to recognise as Flake’s way of stalling while he thought how to respond. 

“I knew, as I’m sure we all did, that Paul has been more than a little enamoured with Richard, almost from the onset, but this behaviour – it screams of a very unhealthy obsession. I honestly had no idea it had become so bad. I had told him that he should move on, when we were at Till’s party back in the summer, and I thought he’d done just that. Looks like it’s not just Richard that he’s managed to fool.”

With that, they went in different directions – Ollie up the stairs, Flake into the dining room which adjoined the kitchen. They both checked in cupboards and wardrobes, under large furnishings, behind doors and curtains – basically anywhere with enough space for Paul to hide in if he wanted to – but the guitarist definitely wasn’t home.

“Flake – come here… you should see this…” Ollie called from the first-floor landing.

Satisfied that he’d searched every nook and cranny on the ground floor, Flake made his way upstairs to join Ollie. The tall bassist gestured towards the master bedroom, and stepped aside to allow Flake to go ahead of him, so that he could see what he’d just discovered himself.

To the casual observer, from the doorway, it looked much like most other main bedrooms would – bed, nightstands, lamps, chest of drawers… it wasn’t until you got through the door and turned to face the adjacent wall that it became obvious that things were far from normal.

The wall was covered with pictures of Paul and Richard together, at work and more candid shots. Between the framed images there were magazine clippings, photographs, drawings – all of Richard. The entire wall was covered with his image. If they hadn’t known who owned the house, they would’ve sworn it belonged to some demented fangirl. ‘Obsession’ seemed to be too tame a word.

Flake took some photos on his phone so that he could show Till later on. “Come on, let’s get out of here – this room’s beginning to give me the creeps.”

Back on the ground floor, Flake went to the rear door and made sure it was locked before rejoining Ollie at the main entrance. They locked the house up after themselves, and were about to get back into the car, when one of Paul’s neighbours stuck her head above the hedge dividing the properties.

“If you’re looking for Paul, you’ve missed him by a matter of minutes. He turned up thirty minutes ago, ran into the house and straight back out again with a holdall. He seemed to be in quite a rush! Is he late for rehearsals or something? He usually tells me when you boys are going on tour, so I can keep an eye on the house for him.”

“Thanks for letting us know. We’ve probably passed each other on the road without realising it. I’m sure we’ll catch up with him later.”

Taking their leave from the well-intentioned busybody, the pair got back into Flake’s car and drove back to Till’s house, so that they could fill in the others with what they’d just learned.


	12. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating - I was unhappy with how I'd written some of the next chapters, and ended up rewriting large sections. I have now finished the story on paper, it'll just take a bit of time for me to type it up...

Till found the information, coupled with the photos, deeply troubling. It was becoming clear that Paul had grown increasingly disturbed over the years (judging by the dates on the images, and their greater proliferation as time passed) while the rest of the band remained oblivious.

It was Flake’s turn to feel guilty now – firstly because his friend was obviously mentally ill and he’d not noticed the signs before something terrible happened, or got Paul the help he could’ve had to help him get better – and secondly because he now believed his chat with Paul at Till’s party, about the shorter man’s feelings for Richard, was what prompted Paul to take his drastic course of action.

He made the case to Till that, should they find Paul, they get him admitted to a mental hospital, rather than follow what course of action that Schneider would no doubt want to take. Till said he’d consider it, but also pointed out that the hospital would need details of why he should be institutionalised, and would probably need to consult with the police on account of Paul’s criminal actions. The media could then get wind of the story, leading to the kind of attention that they wanted to shield Richard from.

He told them that they needed to let Schneider know what the current situation was, and then consult with the squad about where they could go from here. There were three other ‘loose ends’ to tie up, after all. Making sure his two colleagues had whatever food and drink they wanted for the time-being, he headed for his bedroom.

Opening the door, he found Richard and Schneider huddled together under the blanket, both apparently fast asleep. Despite the terrible discovery of Paul’s betrayal, Richard’s face was peaceful in sleep. One arm was uncovered and was draped around Schneider’s torso, the hand clutching the drummer’s t-shirt tightly. Till smiled slightly, he knew that Schneider would be able to keep Richard calm, and that he’d also behave like a perfect gentleman. He’d have a chat with him later about boundaries, just to be certain though.

Crossing to Schneider’s side of the bed, he gave him a gentle nudge. The drummer was only sleeping lightly, and awoke at the touch. Realising that it wasn’t Richard who’d woken him, he turned his head towards Till. “Hey Till, what’s up?” he whispered.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, but we’ve got some information which we think you and your squaddies should hear.”

Schneider turned his head back to look at Richard, curled up fast asleep next to him, and wondered how he could get up without waking him. It became apparent that it would be almost impossible, so he decided he may as well wake him deliberately.

“Reesh…” he said softly, gently stroking Richard’s face, “…I need you to wake up, love.”

Richard groaned quietly, still asleep, and tightened his grip on Schneider’s shirt. Till chuckled, thinking how cute it seemed. Schneider shot Till a look. “Maybe you could provide some assistance?”

Till smiled, and switched to the other side of the bed. “Scholle…I have some lebkuchen with your name on them, if you let go of Schneider…”

Whether that made its way through to Richard’s subconscious, or whether it was because Till’s voice was much deeper and more resonant than that of Schneider, Richard woke up and yawned. He had a confused look on his face when he saw who he’d been sleeping next to…until the memories came flooding back, and with them the threat of another meltdown. Schneider and Till both saw the realisation hitting him, and were quick to provide reassurance.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Scholle, you’re safe here…”

“It’s okay, love, you don’t have to face this alone…I promise.”

Richard sat up, which gave Schneider the opportunity to get up at the same time.

“We need Schneider to chat with his army buddies, as soon as possible. I can take his place as chief-cuddler while he’s gone, if you want.”

“If it’s about Pa-” he stalled, before resuming, “If it’s about what’s been going on, I want to be part of the discussion.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good…”

“Tillchen – please don’t try wrapping me in cotton wool. I’m not some fragile porcelain doll. I need to know what’s happening. I have a right to know…”

Till looked to Schneider for his opinion.

“Richard’s not wrong about having the right to know. He should have a say in what happens next. He should also know that we’re all here to support him, whatever he chooses.”

Richard smiled gratefully at Schneider, and rested his head on the drummer’s shoulder, who carefully wrapped an arm around Richard’s waist in response.

“You better not have been lying about the lebkuchen, they’re all I can think about since you mentioned them.” Schneider said to Till.

Richard lifted his head back up at the mention of the sweet treats. “We have lebkuchen? Where?”

Till chuckled and Richard’s reaction. “Yes, we have some. I had been intending to save them for Christmas, but I can bring them out early. I’ll just have to buy some more before next month. I’ll go and put the kettle on – try not to take too long before joining us – if the other two catch on to what I’ve got, I doubt that the lebkuchen will last long!” He gave Richard a kiss on the forehead and disappeared out the door.

“Are you sure you feel ready to face this now?” Schneider asked, as Richard splashed water on his face in the en-suite, in an effort to reduce some of the puffiness.

Richard exhales slowly, hands either side of the washbasin to steady himself, then looked at Schneider in the reflection of the mirror. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s not as if I’ve been in this kind of situation before. If all that had happened was me being kidnapped and rescued – whether I sustained injuries or not – then I think I would’ve been able to handle that. I was doing okay in the cell, once I’d got past the first few hours. But for someone I trusted to…” he paused, trying to gather himself. “I’m not sure that’s something I can get over. But it is something I need to confront, sooner or later, and in my experience the longer I leave it, the worse it gets, so….”

“Okay. But promise me that if it starts to overwhelm you, you let me know, and we can stop. Just remember that all of us in that room love you, and will be there for you no matter what.”

“I promise.” Richard gave a small smile as he straightened up, hand reaching for a towel to dry off, before turning to face Schneider. “Well…showtime!”

Schneider smiled back at him, reaching out an arm and pulling Richard closer, planting a chaste kiss on his plush lips. “Mmm…minty!” he said, tasting the remnants of toothpaste, “do you come in other flavours?”

The unintended double-entendre made Richard laugh unexpectedly. “You tell me! You’re the expert on how I taste!”

“Rude! Naughty boy – get downstairs now!”

***

Guessing that Richard would probably want to sit close to Schneider, the others had purposefully chosen seats leaving one of the sofas free for the pair. While the group of friends waited for Schneider’s former comrades to arrive,, Ollie and Flake told Richard and Schneider about their trip to Paul’s house – omitting the part about what they’d discovered in the main bedroom – how the guitarist was nowhere in sight, and what the neighbour had told them.

“Sounds like he had a ‘go-bag’ at the ready, for when things went south.” Schneider remarked. “You’ll probably that various things are missing from his house if you went back and did a more thorough search.”

“Things like…?” Flake prompted.

“Passport, currency, bank cards, clothing obviously, possibly a treasured possession… think of the things that you’d need or want to take with you if you were told you had to leave your house in a hurry, and wouldn’t be able to return for a long time, if indeed, ever. Things that you could pack into a single bag.”

“So, you believe he’s on the run?” Ollie asked.

“He’d be a fool if he’s not. I think he knows he can never come back to the group, if not the whole of Berlin.” Till replied. “Which begs the question – what do we do with the band? We have said previously that we wouldn’t continue as Rammstein if someone left, that it won’t work with a new member…”

Richard found that their attention was trained on him, with him being the founding member, if there was a stalemate he had the casting vote, but obviously there were extra ramifications this time.

“I think that it’s too late to halt the production and release of the new album, and we worked too hard on it to throw it away…but I don’t think that I’ll be able to do a tour promoting it, with or without a replacement on rhythm guitar. I don’t think I could face doing any interviews either. How do the rest of you feel? It’s not just me that’s affected by this, after all.”

The others’ opinions were more or less the same. They decided not to make any official announcements, at least ahead of the album’s release, but they would approach their management and legal teams to discuss the options with regards to full disbanding, or continuing as a five-piece with Paul removed from all subsequent royalties and legal entanglements.


	13. Thirteen

As they wound up their initial discussion of the band’s future, Karl and another soldier arrived. Richard stayed long enough to confirm that the voices on the recordings matched those of the other kidnappers, as he’d never seen any of their faces. With regards to his opinions on their punishment he said, “I don’t really care what happens to them, as long as they aren’t able to come anywhere near me again. Just tell me that I don’t need to worry about them ever again and I’ll take you at your word.”

He got up to leave the room, having reached the point where his head was starting to swim. “I’ll leave the rest of you to work out the details.”

Schneider started to rise, but Till motioned for him to stay with Karl and his colleague, and got up to follow Richard out of the lounge. Catching up with him, he guided him towards the kitchen. “You better grab the lebkuchen and take them upstairs. If Flake gets his hands on them, the whole packet will be devoured before you know it. Honestly, I don’t know how he stays so skinny!”

“I thought you knew – he’s an alien!”

Till laughed, but he wasn’t fooled by Richard’s attempt at humour. Paul’s betrayal had cut the other guitarist deeply, and although Richard was a lot more emotionally and mentally stable than he was twenty years previously, his emotions were never far below the surface.

“Actually that would explain a lot!” he replied, patting Richard on the shoulder as he handed him the packet of delicious chocolate-covered treats.

Richard opened the packet and offered them to Till. “You better have one before they all disappear.”

Till dipped thumb and forefinger in to retrieve one, and took a bite. He closed his eyes, chewed and swallowed, then ate the rest. “Mmm…better than sex!” he declared.

“You’re obviously doing sex wrong, then!” Richard grinned, as he turned on his heel and headed for Till’s bedroom.

Till returned to the lounge to see what, if anything, had been decided in their absence. Turning the kidnappers over to the police had been ruled out, for the same reasons why Till was loathe to send Paul to a mental hospital, assuming they caught up with him. So Karl had suggested that they pass the three perps on to their counterparts in the Russian army, who would be willing to treat them to a free tour of an old gulag. Permanently.

They agreed that the recovered ransom money should be given to Karl, Frankie and their comrades as payment for their assistance, and that some of the money would be used to ‘facilitate’ the kidnappers’ travel arrangements.

As they were unable, for the time being, to make a decision as to what Paul’s fate would be, should he cross their paths again, Karl said they’d keep up remote surveillance on his house and report back any sightings, before taking any action. He and his colleague left, and both Ollie and Flake decided they needed a drink to help them unwind from what had been a very tense day.

Ollie handed the pistol back to Till, who locked it away. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll join you. I could do with getting some air.”

As the two tallest band members went in search of their coats, Till turned to Schneider. “You might want to get upstairs quickly if you want any lebkuchen. Richard’s alone with the packet!”

Schneider feigned a look of horror. “Oh dear god – it’s going to be a massacre!” Then more seriously, “Are you okay with me staying over to help Richard through this mess?”

“Of course. But I think you should be careful about how far you take things while he’s –”

Schneider stopped him mid-sentence. “Don’t worry – I’m not about to jump his bones. Nothing more than kisses and cuddles until he’s back on a more even keel – however long that takes – assuming he wants to be with me after that.”

Till nodded, “I thought you’d probably think along the same lines as me, but I had to be sure.”

“I understand, don’t worry.” Schneider repeated. “You better hurry up yourself if you’re wanting that drink – it sounds like Flake and Oli are ready to leave without you!”

Till grunted, and left to get his own coat. He checked his pockets for his phone, wallet and keys. Seeing the freezing cold expressions on the faces of his two drinking companions he grabbed a scarf and beanie too. It was definitely cold for mid-November.

Schneider ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He found Richard sitting cross-legged on Till’s bed, eyes closed, a beatific expression on his face. His cheeks were puffed out like those of a hamster – he’d evidently stuffed more than one treat into his mouth. Richard was apparently oblivious to his arrival, so Schneider just leant against the door frame, smiling, watching Richard eating. As an afterthought he took his phone out from his pocket, and took a photo. He’d forgotten he’d taken it off silent mode, so when he pressed the button to take Richard’s picture, it made the shutter-sound.

Richard’s eyes snapped open. “Schneider! Delete that!”

“No way! You looked far too cute – that one’s a keeper. In fact, I’m going to send it to everyone so they can see how adorable you are!”

“Don’t you dare!” Richard leapt off the bed and made to grab Schneider’s phone. Of course, Schneider was able to keep it well out of Richard’s reach due to their difference in height, but that didn’t stop the shorter man from trying.

Schneider just grinned at him, feeling a little bit like a school bully who’d grabbed his victim’s treasured possession and was refusing to return it. That then got him to thinking what Richard would look like in a school uniform. Inevitably that had a physical effect on him, which Richard didn’t fail to notice – pressed up against him as he was, trying to reach up above Schneider’s head. Trying a different tactic to throw the drummer off-balance, he looped his arms around Schneider’s neck and initiated a deep kiss, making Schneider drop his arms to wrap them around Richard.

Richard did a little victory dance in his head, moving his arms lower without breaking contact with Schneider’s mouth, running his hands down his sides, slipping one hand lower to squeeze Schneider’s ass with one hand. As Schneider pulled the guitarist closer to himself Richard made his move. Using a wrestling move, he managed to throw the drummer to the floor, making Schneider drop the phone, which Richard snatched up triumphantly before jumping on the bed, and opening up the photos ready to delete.

Schneider got up slowly, still with a goofy grin on his face, despite knowing Richard had probably just deleted the picture. Richard looked up from the phone. “I don’t know why you’re looking so happy – all your resistance was for nothing.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…that snog was pretty hot…” His grin got even wider as his phone’s message alert pinged. “And as you’ve probably just realised – you were too late to stop me from pressing ‘send’”

Richard looked back at the phone. It was a message from Till which read “If Richard puked from eating too many of those things, you’re cleaning up the mess!”

“You bastard!” Richard exclaimed, without any real venom behind it, as messages pinged in from Ollie, Flake, Joe Letz and several others of their mutual friends.

“I’m sorry sweetie. What can I do to make it up to you?” Schneider asked mischievously, glad that – for a short while at least – he’d managed to stop Richard from wallowing in misery.

Richard arched an eyebrow, and licked his lips salaciously. “I’m sure I can think of something…”

Schneider shook his head. “You’ve got a one-track mind Herr Kruspe. I regret to inform you that any form of sex is off the menu for now. You’re still recovering from broken ribs for one, and you know that when we have sex it’s anything but vanilla – you’ll get hurt!”

“I guess you’re right, and anyway my ass is still sore from the unusual position I’ve been forced to sleep in.”

It was Schneider’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “That’s strange – it’s not like you’ve been laid up for weeks, or bouncing up and down on it. You sure the bastards who broke your ribs didn’t break your coccyx while they were at it?”

“I don’t think so, but I guess it’s possible… I’ve just thought of something you could do for me – how about a massage? Take out some of the aches and pains…”

“Are you sure that won’t hurt your ribs?”

“As long as you’re gentle down that side I should be okay.”

Schneider decided that a massage wouldn’t cross the line he’d imposed on himself. “If you fall asleep on the bed you’ll probably wind up getting any excess oil on the covers. Maybe we should move back into your room, so we don’t get Till’s bed all sticky.”

Richard looked pensively at the door. “I can’t go in my room with all his stuff in there still… Can you ask Till if we can swap rooms, just for tonight at least?”

“Okay babe. I’ll phone him while I retrieve the oil from your room. You stay put.”

“No worries on that front.” Richard said, handing Schneider’s phone back to him, and picking up the packet of confectionary from the nightstand, popping one in his mouth and sucking his thumb clean of chocolate where it had melted at his touch.

“Is it wrong of me to feel envious of a piece of food?” Schneider pondered aloud as he headed out of the room, making Richard grin behind him.

Schneider phoned Till as he walked the short distance along the landing to Richard’s room. “Hey Till…no, nothing’s happened – don’t panic. Look, Richard’s asked for a massage, but doesn’t want to go back in his room while Paul’s stuff’s still in it…” He paused as he opened the door to the room in question, pushing it to behind him. “Well, we were just thinking of the mess the oil would make of your sheets is all… Richard wanted to know if you’d be willing to swap rooms for tonight. I’ll put the sheets in the wash for you tomorrow.”

He paused as he listened to Till on the other end, using his free hand to open up the drawer of the nightstand. He pulled out the bottle of massage oil, and was about to shut the drawer again when he spotted something that made him stop. He picked up a box from the drawer and flipped the lid to look at the contents.

“Cool. He’ll be happy when I tell him. Quick question while you’re on the phone – since the last time Richard and I were here together, has he had anyone stay with him, or have you borrowed anything from the nightstand on my side?” Again, a pause while he listened to Till’s response. “No, it’s just that the last time I was here, before everything, I put a new packet of condoms in the drawer – and just now when I was getting the oil out, I found the box minus the cellophane wrapper and half the contents missing…hang on a minute, let me check something.”

Schneider felt some measure of guilt at ‘snooping’ around what was Richard’s room, even if he shared it with him most of the time he was there. A small pedal bin was located next to the nightstand on his side of the bed. Pressing the pedal down and peering inside, Schneider felt his stomach sinking. “There are used condoms and wrappers in the bin, which you know I always empty after every stay…”

The feeling got worse as Till replied, mentioning what Richard had said about the fight he had with Paul that morning – which seemed a lifetime ago – and his comments about his backside.

“He mentioned that to me just now. So as far as you – and from the sounds of it, Richard – know, he hasn’t had sex since returning? Oh shit…the Valium…I think I know why Paul was drugging Richard. That little bastard is dead when I find him.”

Schneider sat down heavily on the bed, taking deep breaths to calm himself before he went back to Richard. “I can’t tell Richard about this – it would destroy him…Oh god…”

Till pointed out that unless they sent the used condoms for DNA testing, then they didn’t really have any proof that Paul had taken advantage of Richard while he was unconscious. So there was no point telling Richard of their suspicions or of Schneider’s discovery. It would be best kept between them. Till said that he’d finish up his current drink and head back – he wanted to pick up a few things while the shops were still open – so that was a perfect excuse to leave Flake and Ollie. He said that he’d ‘take care’ of Richard’s bedroom, but that Richard and Schneider could still use his for the night.

Schneider disconnected the call, breathing and heart rate closer to normal again, and, grabbing the bottle he’d gone in search of, made his way back to Till’s room, forcing a smile onto his face.

“You took your time…” Richard pointed out, looking mildly annoyed, “…I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me!”

“Impossible, love. Till kept me talking, I’m sorry. Good news though – we’ve got permission to get his sheets covered in gunk! So strip off and lie on your front.”

Richard didn’t need telling twice, and undressed until he was only in his boxers. Schneider had pulled back the bedcovers Richard was getting semi-naked, and stripped off himself so as not to get his clothes covered in the sticky oil. Richard’s bright blue eyes took in the sight appreciatively – Schneider’s body was toned and muscular from the regular workouts the drummer did every week in order to stay fit enough to pound the drums on a regular basis. Schneider caught him staring and smiled. “Down boy! It’s just a massage you’re getting – nothing more!”

Richard pouted but didn’t protest. He knew it would be a while before he was ready to have sex again, not just from a physical perspective, but a mental one too. Not to mention that it would be a long time before he’d be able to trust anyone enough to let them get that close to him. Present company excepted, of course – Schneider had never done anything to make him doubt their relationship, but they’d always kept things casual and fun, and Richard was getting to a point in his life where he thought he was finally ready to find someone he could spend the rest of his life with.

If Schneider wasn’t interested in making things between them more permanent, then Richard was worried that he might end up alone. He knew that he had a reputation for playing the field, and being unable (or unwilling) to stay in a relationship with anyone for long. He doubted that anyone he hooked up with would consider it as anything other than a brief fling. Leopards and spots and all that, and he only had himself to blame for that public perception of himself. He sighed.

“I know, love – it’s been a difficult day. Try to relax, and I’ll see what I can do to help.” Schneider said, as he took up a position next to Richard on the bed, not knowing what was going through the younger man’s head at that point, but knowing that whatever it was, he needed to empty Richard’s mind as much as possible.

He squirted some of the oil onto his hands, then rubbed them together to warm it up, so that it wouldn’t be too much of a shock to Richard’s skin. He set to work on Richard’s bunched-up muscles around his neck and shoulders, gradually working his way down, skimming gently over the tender area covering the broken bones, and finishing at his waistline, just above Richard’s boxers. Richard had been making appreciative moans at the start of the massage, but he was quiet now.

Schneider looked at Richard’s face, which he saw had gone slack – the guitarist fast asleep once more. Schneider smiled to himself, convinced that Richard had been a cat in a previous life, what with how much sleeping he seemed to do all the time, and his almost primal need to be loved and adored by many. Don’t forget the fastidious attention to his appearance.

He got up from the bed and crossed to Till’s bathroom. He rinsed off his hands and dried them on a nearby hand-towel which he took into the bedroom, gently wiping the excess oil from Richard’s body, careful not to wake him up. He returned the towel to its rail in the bathroom, then turned off the bedroom light, using the scant illumination from outside to see his way to the bed. He laid down next to Richard, pulling the covers up over them both. He lay there for some time, listening to Richard’s steady breathing and going over the day’s events in his head.

He heard Till returning home, and listened to the singer pottering about the house, before eventually retiring to sleep in Richard’s room. Schneider closed his eyes, but sleep was a long time coming.


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A domestic interlude...

The following morning, over breakfast, Richard announced that he thought it was time he let Till have his house back to himself, as he felt he’d imposed on Till’s hospitality long enough. Till, of course, told him that he was more than welcome to stay as long as he liked.

Although Till had stripped Richard’s room of all traces of Paul’s presence – and had changed the bed sheets – Richard was still reluctant to return to the room, but he didn’t want to admit that to Till, feeling like he was behaving irrationally. 

Schneider passed through the kitchen on the way to the laundry room, carrying the sheets from Till’s bed – keeping his promise to wash the sheets. Guessing what the real issue was for Richard, he offered a solution.

“Why don’t you come and stay with me for a bit, Reesh? That way you’re letting Till have his home back – which makes you happy – and you’re still having someone to make sure you’re looked after while you recover – which makes Till happy…”

“Actually, come to think of it, that’s a great idea!” Till declared. “If you continue to stay here, then this Neanderthal will no doubt want to stay with you. He’s already driving me up the wall playing on my pots and pans with my wooden spoons. You’d be doing me a massive favour by leaving and taking Schneider with you!”

Richard looked at Schneider with a hopeful expression. “You’re sure you wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to put you out…”

“I’m absolutely certain. I’ve plenty of room at home, I could do with some company for a while. If you want, when you’ve finished breakfast, we can swing by your place to pick up anything you want, then go back to mine. Do you want me to get anything from your room here? I can start packing a bag for you.”

With Schneider’s offer to retrieve items from Richard’s room, Till realised what the real issue was for Richard, but wisely chose not to comment on it. The more he thought about it, it made sense for Richard to have a change of scenery to help with his recovery, and Till had missed the peace and quiet of having the house to himself. He’d not managed to get any writing done since that night at the club.

He didn’t begrudge Richard staying with him, his friend’s wellbeing was far more important than Till’s poetry, but he was secretly pleased that Schneider had offered to take the guitarist in at his home instead.

Decision made, Richard tucked happily into his bacon and eggs, while Schneider busied himself with the tasks on hand. Schneider entered the laundry room, and after carefully checking the washing instructions on Till’s bedding, loaded it into the washer – adding detergent and fabric softener – then set the program going. That done, he paused in the kitchen long enough to make himself a cup of coffee, and took the mug upstairs while he went in search of the items Richard had requested.

Less than an hour later, Till was saying goodbye to the pair of them as they got into Schneider’s car and drove off. Till shut the door and headed to the first floor – the house eerily quiet now that he was left to his own devices. He made a conscious decision to move whatever belongings Richard had left behind into his room, and place his own items into the room the guitarist had vacated. He’d have to do some redecorating, but at least there would be a bedroom that Richard would feel comfortable staying in, should he come back for another sleepover.

Till opened the drawer on the nightstand that Schneider had talked about on the phone – the box of condoms was still there. He debated whether or not he should leave them for his own use, or if he ought to keep them as evidence. Remembering that it would now have Schneider’s fingerprints on the carton, it wouldn’t be much use for the latter, so he might as well put the remaining contents to good use.

Deciding what to do with the contents of the bin was another matter entirely. He removed the bin liner and tied it closed with a knot – setting it aside to deal with later. He replaced the liner with a fresh one, then got on with the job of swapping the contents of the two main bed- and bathrooms.

***

“Here we are - home sweet home!” Schneider announced, as he parked the car on the gravel drive at the side of his house.

They both got out – Richard retrieving a bag from the backseat of the car, while Schneider opened the front door before returning to the car.

“You go ahead, I’ll get the stuff from the boot of the car.”

Richard nodded, and shut the doors on his side of the vehicle, carrying a holdall in his right hand. Schneider opened the car boot, removing a couple of suitcases and a guitar flight case. Setting the latter down for a moment, he locked the car. Placing the smaller of the two suitcases under one arm, he grabbed the handle of the other suitcase with that hand, and picked up the guitar case in the other, carrying them into the house. Once inside he set them down carefully, then shut the door behind him.

“Make yourself at home, Reesh. Um, do you want me to make up a bed in the spare room for you, or –”

“I was kinda hoping to share a bed with you…I mean, if that’s alright? I’d prefer not to sleep alone for a while.”

“That’s fine. But what I said last night still stands, just so we’re clear.”

Richard sighed and nodded. “I know. Like I said myself, I’m too sore all over anyway. I realised just how tender parts of me still are when you were giving me that massage. Anything more than a cuddle would probably hurt like a bitch – I really shouldn’t have pulled that move on you to get your phone.”

Schneider smirked. “Well, as long as you’ve learnt your lesson, that’s okay. Come on – let’s get you settled in…”

***

Over the next few weeks Richard and Schneider fell into a loose routine. After breakfast – if the weather was clement – they would go for walks in the countryside close to Schneider’s home, in order to build Richard’s muscle tone back up. If it was raining or snowing they would stay indoors – reading books, watching tv or films, and occasionally some household chores. In the afternoons they would practice on their instruments in separate rooms, sometimes choosing to have a jamming session together.

They had several visits from their fellow band members, and Till would stay with Richard for a few hours whenever Schneider needed to go shopping in town, as Richard didn’t feel ready enough to go anywhere where they could encounter groups of fans – or journalists who might ask awkward questions. He wasn’t sure which he dreaded more.

Eventually, Christmas Eve came around and, unusually, Richard was up early. Tempting smells drifted up from the kitchen and woke Schneider from his slumber. Amused by Richard’s uncustomary behaviour, he stretched and got out of bed. After taking a piss in his en-suite bathroom, he threw a robe on over his t-shirt and boxers as he crossed the bedroom, and headed out towards the stairs.

Richard was so busy working away in the kitchen that he didn’t hear Schneider approach, and just about jumped out of his skin when the drummer wrapped his arms around him from behind. “Fucking hell, Doom! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?”

“Sorry love, I thought you’d heard me come in.” Schneider apologised, planting a kiss on Richard’s cheek. “What are you up to anyway?”

“I’ve decided to make some doughnuts for Till – like I used to – I can give them to him when we go round to his place tomorrow. I wanted to do something special to thank him for letting me stay at his for so long.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you! What do I get for letting you stay with me? Happy one-month anniversary by the way!”

“You get me – I’m the gift!” Richard grinned back at him. “Has it really been a month?”

“Yes, it has. And now I’m hurt that you don’t remember what date you moved in with me…” Schneider said, imitating one of Richard’s pouts.

Richard turned around in his arms and looked up at him. “Sweetie, back then I was lucky if I remembered what my name was, let alone anything else! But I’ve enjoyed every minute with you since then. I’ll find a way to make it up to you later.”

Schneider smiled and kissed Richard on the lips, before dabbing some of the raw doughnut mixture onto the tip of Richard’s nose, playfully. The guitarist gave him a sharp slap on the behind, scolding him. “If you’re not going to help out with the baking, you could make yourself useful and pour me another coffee. I’ve made you some breakfast – it’s being kept warm in the oven – make sure you use the oven gloves.”

“I’m so glad I’ve found myself a wife who’s good at cooking…” Schneider commented, with a wide grin.

“Wife!? Darling, you’ve not put a ring on my finger, so don’t go making assumptions!” 

“Okay, girlfriend, then!” Schneider dodged, as Richard flicked a tea-towel at him, scowling.

“Just eat your breakfast and get dressed. We’ve still got presents to wrap before tomorrow.”

“Your wish is my command, love.” Schneider replied, knowing not to push Richard’s buttons too far, and tucked into his breakfast, making noises of appreciation. Richard smiled, he liked seeing people enjoying food he’d prepared. Returning to his current project, he soon lost track of time, he was so absorbed in his cooking.


	15. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the reader goes into diabetic coma because of all the sugar... ;oD

Later that evening the pair sat watching a film, while outside snow was falling steadily, transforming the landscape into a picture-postcard setting. All the presents had been gift-wrapped and placed in bags ready to be taken to Till’s house for his get-together on Christmas Day.

Richard was wiggling his toes as he warmed his feet near the open fireplace, head resting on Schneider’s shoulder – a mug of hot chocolate topped with mini marshmallows held in both hands, resting on his lap. He felt utterly relaxed and at home.

“Penny for them…” Schneider said.

“Hmm?”

“Penny for your thoughts…”

Richard lifted his head and turned it to look at Schneider. “I was just thinking how happy I am, here with you. Like I don’t have a care in the world…”

Schneider smiled. “I’ve enjoyed having you here too – I love waking up and you’re the firs thing I see…even if you do keep stealing all the duvet.”

“I do not!”

“Sweetie, you roll yourself up into a duvet cocoon, then emerge as a beautiful butterfly every morning” Schneider teased.

Richard snorted. “Well, at least I don’t snore like an asthmatic pig!”

Schneider’s jaw dropped in mock-disbelief. “I can’t believe you said that! And to think I was going to ask if you wanted to move in permanently!”

“You were?”

“Not any more, I’m not…”

“Aww…I’m sorry Doomie – I didn’t mean it…”

“Hmpf! I’m not sure I believe you…”

Richard put down his now-empty mug, and moved to straddle Schneider on the sofa. He put his arms around Schneider’s neck and started kissing and nuzzling the drummer. “Don’t be mad at me, baby, let me make it up to you…” he gently nipped at Schneider’s neck, sucked on his earlobe, then turned his concentration to Schneider’s mouth. He kissed him passionately, until he felt Schneider’s cock stirring in his jeans. In response, he moved his hands to Schneider’s waistline, and started unbuckling his belt.

Schneider put his hands over Richard’s, making the guitarist pause and pull away from the kiss to look at him, questioning.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Schneider asked, his blue eyes searching Richard’s.

“I think I’ve waited – we’ve waited – long enough. I know how I feel about you. I want to do this.”

Schneider nodded, and released Richard’s hands, cupping Richard’s chin with one hand he kissed him softly. “As long as you’re sure, love…”

Richard gave Schneider his full-beam smile as he popped the button on Schneider’s jeans, before pulling the zip down. He slid off Schneider’s lap, allowing the drummer to lift his hips. As he did so, Richard took hold of the jeans, and the top of the boxers beneath, pulling them both so they were below Schneider’s knees. Schneider sat back down again, as Richard pulled the clothing all the way off him and dropped it to one side.

Schneider’s cock was at full attention now. Richard licked his lips, and kneeling between Schneider’s legs, bent his head down. He kissed the tip and said, “Hello again Doom Junior – I’ve missed you!”

Schneider laughed, amused by Richard’s behaviour, “‘Junior’ missed you too – how about you get reacquainted?”

Wasting no time, Richard licked Schneider’s cock from root to tip, then parted his lips – taking it into his mouth – licking and sucking on it, gradually taking in the whole length. As his head bobbed up and down, Schneider tilted his head back against the sofa cushions, moaning from the pleasure the younger man was giving him. Richard certainly hadn’t lost his touch in the last two months, skilfully drawing Schneider to the edge, then gripping the base of Schneider’s cock – the pressure of his thumb and forefinger preventing Schneider from climaxing too soon. Schneider moaned aloud, his erection starting to become painful from his need for release. “Reesh, please…”

Richard looked up into his eyes, maintaining contact with his lips and tongue on Schneider’s cock, then removed his hand. A few more seconds and Schneider came, Richard swallowing everything he gave him, before sitting back on his heels. Schneider took a moment to compose himself, then lifted his head up. “That’s the best blowjob I’ve had in a long time…”

The guitarist smiled, pleased with the compliment. “You’re welcome! Plenty more where that came from!” he added, mischievously.

“I’ll have to investigate that claim at another time. It’s getting late – we should get some sleep.”

He held his arms outstretched, and Richard stood up. Grabbing one of Schneider’s hands in each of his own, he leaned backwards slightly, using his own weight as leverage to pull Schneider off the couch and to his feet. He didn’t let go, instead walking backwards towards the staircase, pulling Schneider along in his wake.

At the base of the stairs he released his hold, and snaked an arm around Schneider’s waist, the pair of them ascending together in companionable silence. When they reached the bedroom, Richard looped his arms around Schneider’s neck again, initiating a passionate kiss. As he pulled away to draw breath he whispered in Schneider’s ear, “Make love to me Christoph.”

Schneider gazed deeply into Richard’s eyes, the younger man returning it unflinching. He grasped the bottom of Richard’s sweatshirt, and pulled it over the guitarist’s head, Richard lifting his arms to assist him. Schneider’s hands moved to Richard’s jeans next – unfastening them – and pulled them down, bending at the knees as he did so. Richard steadied himself against the doorframe as he stepped out of the jeans. 

As Schneider looked up from where he was crouching he found himself faced with Richard’s erection. “This isn’t the best season to be going commando,” he said with some amusement.

“I ran out of clean underwear again, so I didn’t have much choice!”

“I better re-introduce you to this incredible invention they call a ‘washing-machine’ and a thing referred to as the ‘laundry basket’”

Richard stuck his tongue out in response.

“Oh god, what have I let myself in for? I’m not cleaning up after you, sweetie, no matter what you do to try and persuade me otherwise.” Schneider said, painfully aware of the effect Richard was having on him, nibbling at his jawline and running his hands over his chest beneath his t-shirt.

“You sure about that?” Richard smirked as he pulled Schneider over to the bed, climbing onto it and settling back against the pillows. He stroked himself slowly while he watched Schneider taking his top off, then retrieving the lube and a condom from the bedside drawer.

Schneider joined him on the mattress, kneeling between Richard’s legs as he rolled the condom onto his own erection. Richard pulled his legs up towards his chest while Schneider got to work preparing him with the lube. He spent a good minute stretching Richard until the younger man was a visual representation of a ‘hot mess’ – head thrown back, moaning and whimpering, pushing his ass down against Schneider’s hand. The drummer decided that Richard was ready and removed his hand, prompting Richard to whine at the loss.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’re going to get what you really want in just a moment.”

Schneider leant forward over Richard’s body and kissed his plush lips, before taking hold of his own cock and pushing it into Richard’s slick inviting hole. Richard’s hips rose up to meet his own, desperate for the contact. Feeling the same need as his lover, Schneider wasted no time waiting for Richard to adjust to him, instead thrusting as hard and deep as he could, grunting with the effort.

Changing his position, he leant forward over Richard again, kissing him while he fucked him, holding Richard’s arms back above his head. Richard moaned and writhed beneath him, back arching his body upwards to get the maximum contact between them. Unable to move his arms he lifted his legs up so that they were crossed behind Schneider’s back, pinning him in place.

As Schneider continued thrusting he hit Richard’s prostate repeatedly, bringing the guitarist to orgasm a couple of times, Richard’s entire body shuddering as the sensation washed over him. Seeing the look of pure ecstasy on Richard’s face brought Schneider to his own climax, shouting out his lover’s name as he came for the second time that evening. Richard’s tight hole contracted around him, squeezing tight as Richard ejaculated, spilling his seed onto his abdomen, between them.

They lay together, panting, until Schneider remembered how to use his muscles, disentangling them both. He removed the condom and grabbed a towel - wiping them both down and throwing the used cloth into a corner – before pulling the duvet up to their waists. He held out an arm to one side, inviting Richard to get closer so they could cuddle.

Richard snuggled up, resting his head on Schneider’s chest, heart still pounding. Schneider tilted Richard’s head up with one hand, and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, Reesh.”

Richard shifted onto one elbow so that he could reach Schneider’s face more easily, and gave him a deep kiss. “I love you too, Christoph.”

Schneider smiled and kissed him back. “We really should get some sleep, baby.”

Richard hummed in agreement and settled back down, resting his cheek back against Schneider’s chest, his free arm draped across Schneider’s stomach, a sleepy smile adorning his face.


	16. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the new shirt that Richard was photographed wearing at the Marilyn Manson concert late last year makes an appearance! ;oD

Richard was woken in the early hours of the morning by the sensations from Schneider caressing his skin softly. He stirred and tilted his head up for a kiss. Schneider changed position so that Richard was lying on his back, with Schneider lying on his side next to him, one hand behind Richard’s neck as he bent forward to deepen the kiss, tongue seeking – and gaining – entry into Richard’s mouth, where it massaged Richard’s tongue.

Schneider used his free hand to gently squeeze one of Richard’s nipples, which hardened at his touch. His hand moved lower and stroked Richard to full hardness. Schneider paused in order to put on a condom and prepare Richard’s entrance. Both still half-asleep, their love-making was slow and sensual, with languid kisses and gentle caresses. Afterwards, they snuggled together.

“Happy Christmas, babe.” Schneider whispered, before yawning.

Richard smiled. “It certainly is, now. Happy Christmas, Doomie!”

“So much for us getting some sleep!”

“You’ve only yourself to blame, you woke me up!”

“I didn’t hear you complaining!” Schneider grinned in the darkness, idly playing with Richard’s hair.

“I’m saving it for later, in case I don’t get enough coffee!”

“I’ll make sure you drink a few litres of the stuff before we go to Till’s – deal?”

“Sounds good to me…” Richard replied, eyelids drooping shut as he gradually fell back to sleep.

“Definitely a cat in a past life,” Schneider thought to himself.

***

“Reesh! Are you nearly ready? We should be going!” Schneider called from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” Richard shouted in reply.

“You said that fifteen minutes ago!” Schneider retorted.

Richard appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a freshly ironed red shirt, black trousers, polished leather boots, and a soft leather jacket tucked under one arm as he worked on fastening a cufflink. His hair was gelled into soft spikes, and black eyeliner highlighted his blue eyes. Schneider wolf-whistled as Richard descended.

“Damn, you look good enough to eat!”

Richard twirled when he reached the bottom of the stairs, giving Schneider the full effect. “Will I do?”

Schneider pulled Richard in for a kiss. “You’re perfect, babe, but you knew that already!”

Richard flashed him a toothy grin. “You’ve scrubbed up well too – for a Neanderthal drummer!”

“Wow. Go steady on the compliments! You’ll make me blush!”

“You know I love you really, Doomie!”

“Do I? You still haven’t answered my question…”

Richard’s brow furrowed. “I’m ready, as you can see…” he said, pointing out the obvious, wondering what that had to do with love.

“Not about being ready, you pillock! About whether you want to move in with me permanently…”

“Ah, right. Technically, you didn’t ask me. You said that you’d been thinking about asking me…”

Schneider reached out to grab Richard’s throat with both hands, pretending to strangle him in frustration. The touch on his neck made Richard wince.

“What’s up, Reesh?” Schneider asked, concerned.

Either last night, or this morning, you gave me a rather large shag bite. It was taking me longer than anticipated to cover it up with some concealer, that’s why I was running late.”

Schneider looked at where Richard had indicated. As long as you didn’t look too closely, you wouldn’t know it was there - Richard had done a great job with the concealer.   
“Oops,” was all Schneider said, to Richard’s amusement. Then, “But before we go to Till’s, I have to know – Richard, will you move in with me permanently?”

“I thought you’d never ask! Of course I will!” He kissed Schneider to seal the deal. “Come on, we can’t hang around here all day – we’re due at Till’s!”

“Cheeky chuff! Get in the car!” Schneider grinned at Richard as he gave him a quick butt-slap, earning him a butt-wiggle in response.

***

Having arrived fashionably late at Till’s, they found they were the last to arrive. Flake and Ollie were delighted to see Richard not only healthy, but evidently happy too. They’d only seen him a few times since he moved to Schneider’s due to his reluctance to leave the house. Till had been to visit more often, so he hung back to let them catch up.

Before Schneider and Richard arrived, the others had come to a general consensus that no-one was to mention Paul anywhere near Richard, however Till took Schneider into the kitchen – ostensibly to get drinks for the late arrivals – and had a brief discussion with him.

“Frankie has been keeping me posted with the team’s progress. Paul does appear to have left the country – temporarily at least – they’ve found a few posts on social media where he’s bumped into fans and granted an occasional selfie – but appears to move on to a new location immediately after. They’ll keep track of his movements and alert us if, and when, he returns to Germany.”

Schneider nodded. “Good. That’ll help me sleep a little easier – thanks for the update. Now, about that other thing…”

“Ready for when you give me the nod. But first – food! I for one have been getting hungry waiting for the pair of you to arrive.” He smiled, and gestured for Schneider to precede him as they made their way back to the lounge.

Till handed Richard a drink before announcing, “If you would all make your way through to the dining room, Christmas dinner is served!”

***

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Till. I can safely say I am now fat!”

“Of course you are, Flake, and I’m the Queen of Sheba!”

Richard grabbed a gold paper hat that had fallen out of a cracker, placed it on Till’s head solemnly then mock-curtsied, making everyone laugh. “Your majesty…”

“Pretty sure you and Schneider are the only ‘queens’ in the room!” Till joked.

“I’m not a queen, I’m a princess!” Richard pouted, imitating a precocious young girl, the alcohol clearly having an effect.

“What have you let yourself in for, Schneider?...” Flake asked. “…living with Princess Peaches twenty-four-seven!”

Schneider smiled, “He’s worth it – believe me!”

“He’s referring to sex, isn’t he?” Ollie asked Flake in a stage-whisper.

“With this band? Almost certainly, yes.”

“Actually, I was referring to his cooking, but since you brought it up – the sex is mind-blowing…”

“That reminds me!” Richard said, jumping up from his seat, “I’ve got something for you, Till!”

As Richard disappeared into the lounge, where they’d deposited all the things they’d brought with them, Till shot Schneider a questioning look. “Should I be worried? Should you be worried for that matter?”

The drummer laughed. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking!”

“I’m not sure what I’m thinking, right now…”

Richard returned, brandishing a gift-wrapped object. “It’s not a Christmas present, it’s just something to say ‘thank you’ for…well…you know.”

He passed it to the singer and retook his seat, while watching Till unwrap the item. Under the paper was a large rectangular plastic container. Pulling the lid off, Till’s face lit up with a huge grin.

“You made doughnuts! Just like you used to! Thank you Scholle. I’m going to enjoy eating these…alone!” he finished, slapping Flake’s hand as it tried sneaking away with one. “You’re fat, remember, Flake? Okay, as we’ve apparently started on the gifts, let’s go back to the other room with our drinks, and we can continue.”

The next half-hour or so was taken up by the exchanging of the gifts they’d all brought for each other before Schneider, with Richard currently occupying his lap, signalled Till with a nod. The singer got up and left the room.

“Reesh, there’s one more thing I’ve got for you…Till’s just fetching it now.”

Sure enough, Till returned with a wicker basket, wrapped simply with a ribbon, and placed it on the floor in front of the couple. Richard slid down from Schneider’s lap and knelt down next to the package. Undoing the ribbon, he removed the lid and gasped.

“It’s adorable! Does it have a name?” he asked, lifting a small black Pomeranian puppy from the basket, and hugging it to his chest. The little dog responded by licking his face and neck.

“She doesn’t have a name yet, no. You’ll have to think of something for her.”

“She’s so cuuute! Look at all the floof!!” 

“She reminded me of you, with her fluffy black fur,” Schneider grinned.

Richard’s eyes were bright and shiny, due to tears of happiness starting to form. He stood up, then sat back down in Schneider’s lap, still holding the puppy close. “She’s perfect, thank you, babe.”

They shared a brief kiss, then Richard returned his attention to his new love. “What name do I give to a precious little girl like you? Hmm?”

The others came over to give the little dog a fuss, and agreed that yes, she was adorable.

“Just remember you need to give her a name that Schneider won’t be too embarrassed to call out when you take her for walkies,” Ollie remarked, “So ‘fifi’, ‘precious’ and the like are out!”

Schneider interrupted, “Richard can call her whatever he wants – he’ll just have to take her out on his own if it’s anything vomit-inducing!” He smirked.

“Don’t listen to your daddy, sweetheart, he won’t be too embarrassed to go walkies with us…no, he won’t…”

“Speaking of vomit-inducing…” Flake remarked, in response to Richard’s comments to the pup.

Changing the subject, Till addressed Richard and Schneider. “We actually have one other gift for you, from the three of us – it’s for both of you.”

Ollie passed an envelope to Schneider, as Richard had his hands full. Schneider opened it,, curious, and pulled out a slip of paper, which he showed to Richard.

“An all-inclusive trip for two to Hawaii…in February! It’ll be here before we know it – I better start packing the minute we get home! Thank you, guys, that’s really sweet of you!”

“You’re welcome. Don’t worry about the latest addition to your family – I’ll look after your little girl with mine while you’re away. She’s already met them, and they all seem to like each other.” Till reassured them.

They all stayed a couple of hours longer at Till’s before going their separate ways home. Schneider helped Till out with clearing away the dirty plates and cutlery, and loading them into the dishwasher. Till cleared away everything else, getting his house as tidy as possible before he really got stuck into the vodka later.

Flake and Ollie took turns having cuddles with Richard and the puppy, the guitarist becoming more touchy-feely the more alcohol he had.

“Time to take you home, love. It’s going to take you forever to decide which of your dozen tops to pack!” he joked, pulling a tipsy Richard, and his precious cargo, to his feet. “Say goodbye to our friends…”


	17. Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short but sweet chapter as we near our conclusion...

It had been decided that the band would put off any announcement about its future until after the New Year and Till’s birthday. Even then, they left an ambiguous notice on both their website and the press releases they had their management company send out.

“It is with regret that we announce that Paul Landers is no longer a member of Rammstein, due to insurmountable personal circumstances. We ask that the media and our fans respect his privacy at this time. We have yet to make a final decision as to the future of the band, and ask for your continued patience while we consider our options. Thank you.”

The social media accounts of Rammstein fans went crazy, speculating on the exact nature of Paul’s departure from the group, and whether or not the band would continue recording or touring – with or without a replacement rhythm guitarist. The remaining band members were struggling to come to a decision, so they postponed that conversation until after Schneider and Richard returned from their holiday.

***

“This place is stunning – just come and look at the view!” Richard enthused.

They were staying in one of the beach villas overlooking the crystal clear waters. Schneider deposited the suitcases into the bedroom and went to stand behind Richard, wrapping his arms around the guitarist’s waist as he did so.

“It’s nowhere near as stunning as you, babe. While I’d be happy to look at the scenery until the sun goes down, we need to change now if we’re going to arrive at the restaurant in time for dinner. Plus, all that fresh air we got on the speedboat during our transfer has left me feeling hungry. Come on….”

Schneider took Richard by the hand and led him to the bedroom to pick an outfit for the evening.

***

Schneider yawned and turned over to face Richard’s side of the bed. Richard was propped up on one arm, looking down at him with a smile on his face.

“Morning, babe. What are you up to?”

“Nothing…just watching you sleep…”

“Okay, that’s cute…and also a little bit creepy!”

“I find watching you sleep calming and comforting.” Richard said, as he leant forward to kiss Schneider on the lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Doomie!”

“What!? It’s Valentine’s Day, today?” Schneider asked, making Richard’s face fall. “I’m kidding, Reesh – I know what day it is, I’ve got the whole day planned out…” He looked at his watch, “…in fact, we better get showered and dressed if we’re going to make our first appointment on time!”

“Can’t we skip the shower and-”

Schneider put his finger on Richard’s lips, stopping him from continuing. “Sorry, babe – while I’d love to do any number of despicable things to your body, we’ll both have to wait until later.”

Richard pouted, but allowed Schneider to pull him out of bed and into the bathroom. To avoid temptation, Schneider made Richard shower by himself while he packed a bag for their trip, before taking his own shower.

***

Richard was delighted to discover that their trip was on a small yacht, which took them out for the opportunity to swim with wild dolphins. A small pod joined the boat – the dolphins familiar with the regular trips it made – and leapt in and out of the water alongside them.

The pair spent the best part of an hour in the water with the intelligent and inquisitive creatures, who allowed them to hold onto their dorsal fins, pulling the pair of them around the immediate area of ocean, until they decided to go in search of food, leaving the boat and the lovers behind.

Back on land, they had a light lunch in a bar close to the marina before driving back to the hotel. The afternoon was spent having a stroll along the beach, with a spot of sunbathing. Returning to their villa before dusk fell, Richard was surprised to find a dozen red and three black roses had been delivered in a decorative vase while they’d been out.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” Schneider said, with a smile, emerging from the bedroom where he’d gone for a quick change of clothes.

Richard bent his head down so that he could smell the bouquet. “They’re beautiful, Christoph, thank you!”

He wrapped his arms around Schneider’s neck and gave him a passionate kiss.

“You’re welcome, Reesh. Go and get changed for dinner, love, it’ll be here shortly.”

As Richard disappeared into the bedroom, Schneider prepared the table and chairs outside on the patio area situated at the front of the villa, facing the ocean. He got his phone out and paired it to the Bluetooth speaker he’d brought in his case, setting a playlist going that he’d compiled for Richard, in anticipation of this evening. There was a knock at the main door, which he hurried to answer. It was the main hotel complex’s room service delivering the meals he’d ordered for them both. He showed the man to the table so that he could set the tray down. Schneider thanked him and gave him a generous tip as he left.

“Did I hear the door?” Richard enquired as he emerged from the bedroom, wearing a black silk shirt with a waistcoat, and black trousers with red detailing on the pockets. He’d redone his hair and eyeliner, making Schneider feel hot under the collar.

“Dinner is served – if sir would like to take his seat?” He escorted Richard onto the patio, and pulled the chair out for him, whilst trying to will certain parts of his anatomy to settle down. Schneider lit the candle at the centre of the table before taking his own place.

***

Their meal progressed with casual conversation, accompanied by wine, helping them both relax more. Afterwards they danced together, Schneider holding Richard close with one hand on the small of his back, the other holding one of Richard’s hands as they swayed gently in time with the music, Richard’s head nestled against Schneider’s shoulder.

“I wish this day could last forever,” Richard sighed, happily. Schneider smiled as the younger man continued, “In fact, I think the only way this day could be any better would be if we had our little ‘Angel’ here with us…” – referring to their pup, currently being cared for back at Till’s.

“Are you sure that’s the only thing?” Schneider asked, amused, as he stepped back from Richard and started to sink down.

“Uh, Doomie – people can see us from the beach – I don’t think this is the best place for you to…” he trailed off, as his brain finally registered the fact that Schneider wasn’t planning on giving him a blowjob on the patio – he was instead reaching into his trouser pocket while on bended knee.

Finding the object he was after, Schneider took hold of Richard’s hand and looked up at him. “Richard Zven Kruspe, will you make me the happiest man on Earth? Will you marry me?”


	18. Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous smut klaxon....

“No…” Richard replied instantly.

It seemed to Schneider that both his heart and lungs stopped functioning simultaneously…his body apparently reacting to the thoughts that Schneider would rather die than go on without Richard – who took pity on his lover…

“I’ll be making you the second happiest man on Earth, as I’ll be the first!”

“You mean…?”

“I mean – yes, I’ll marry you!” Richard had the biggest grin on his face, eyes shining brightly.

Schneider was about to stand up, when he remembered the ring in his hand – which he slid onto Richard’s finger before rising.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” he admonished, able to breathe again, pulling Richard in for a kiss.

“I’m sorry – I couldn’t help myself. Let me make it up to you…” he said coyly, pulling Schneider back inside the villa.

Schneider just managed to snuff the candle before he was pulled out of reach by an insistent Richard. He shut and locked the patio door, drawing the floor-length curtains, and allowed himself to be led into the bedroom. They started to undress each other, with a feeling of urgency to their actions. Stripped of his clothing, Richard slid himself on to the bed, waiting for Schneider to join him. Seeing Schneider reaching into the nightstand for the lube and condoms, he reached out a hand onto Schneider’s arm to get his attention.

Almost shyly, he asked, “Do you think…can we not use condoms from now on? Now you know I’m committed to you… I want to feel you – all of you – when you’re inside me. I want to feel your cum filling me, claiming me…”

If Schneider wasn’t feeling aroused already, he certainly was now. He threw the condom back in the drawer and coated his cock with lube before preparing Richard, who had spread his legs in readiness, stroking himself while he waited.

As Schneider pushed lube-slick fingers inside Richard, he leant forward to kiss Richard first on his lips, along his jawline and moving down his throat, nipping gently. Richard moaned and arched his back, reaching a hand out to grasp Schneider’s hair, pushing the drummer lower down his torso. Schneider took the hint, and after licking Richard’s nipples and blowing over them to make them harden, he moved down to take Richard’s erection in his mouth.

He bobbed his head up and down, licking the slit at the tip, before sucking on the head and drawing the full length inside, cheeks hollowing as he sucked hard. When Richard’s hips started to buck he withdrew, gently massaging Richard’s balls while he lined up his own erection with Richard’s anus.

Richard whined when the wet warmth of Schneider’s mouth no longer enveloped his hardness. The whine changed to a hiss as Schneider pushed inside him. The older man gave him a moment to become accustomed to his presence, then began to thrust slowly.

Richard locked his muscular legs around the small of Schneider’s back, his arms and hands stroking Schneider’s sides…squeezing his pecs…grabbing the back of his neck, as the repeated thrusts against his prostate drove him to distraction. Schneider kept lavishing him with kisses, and whispered in his ear about all the things he wanted to do to Richard’s body. A shift of his angle of thrust brought Richard to his first prostate orgasm – the guitarist threw his head back, making animalistic sounds as the ecstasy washed over him like a wave.

Schneider changed speed and angle again, thrusting against Richard’s sweet spot as often as possible, knowing the effect it had on his lover. He was getting close to his own climax – Richard’s smooth, wet, heat constricting around his cock – Schneider’s own personal heaven. Richard shuddered underneath him again, in the throes of another orgasm, his fingernails digging into Schneider’s back as he rode it out, groaning incoherently.

Schneider picked up the pace again, lifting Richard’s hips up – holding him in place with his strong arms as he pounded him hard and fast, until Richard came over his own abdomen. That was enough to pull Schneider over the edge, his seed spilling out, coating Richard internally as he yelled out the guitarist’s name. He let go of Richard’s legs and bent over to lick the younger man’s torso clean, before collapsing alongside him on the bed, exhausted.

“Best. Valentine’s. Day…Ever!” Richard declared, solemnly, making Schneider laugh.

“I take it you’ve enjoyed yourself today, then?”

“Well…there was a bit of a rocky start where not only did I have to get up early, I didn’t get to have any morning sex…but it rapidly improved after that, and ended with a perfect climax…” he said, looking thoughtful through his analytical response.

“You’ll be giving me marks out of ten next!” Schneider joked.

“A solid seven.”

“Seven!?”

“Yes, I marked you down a point each for the early start and no morning sex.”

“What about the other point?”

“I never give perfect marks – it provides motivation to improve performance.” Richard grinned.

“Oh really?” Schneider arched an eyebrow, but couldn’t help grinning back. Richard could be moody much of the time, but when he smiled it was infectious and had a way of lighting up the room.

“Really…so you better start thinking about how to improve on today’s performance!”

“I see – this is how it’s going to be from now on, is it? You making demands and expecting me to obey unquestioningly?”

“Pretty much…yes…”

“Wow. We’re not even married yet and apparently I’m already under the wife’s thumb!”

“Oi!”

“Oh come on, you already refer to yourself as Angel’s ‘mummy’ so that she doesn’t get confused when being told to ‘come to daddy’ – so it’s not much more of a stretch to being my ‘wife’” Schneider teased.

Richard stuck his tongue out, then pouted, pretending to be annoyed, but Schneider knew that privately Richard enjoyed being ‘mum’ to their puppy, and would probably secretly love being referred to as Schneider’s ‘wife’ – when they were alone of course – to call him that in public would probably result in one of his ‘diva strops’ as Till referred to Richard’s occasional tantrums.

“Aww, don’t be mad at me, baby, not on our engagement day!”

Richard rolled over onto his side and propped his head up on one arm, reaching the other arm out to draw random patterns on Schneider’s chest with one finger. “I’m not mad at you…how can I be after such an incredible day!?”

He looked at the ring on his finger, and chewed his lower lip for a moment. “Um, when will we break the news to the others?”

Schneider picked up his phone from the bedside table where he’d placed it as he’d undressed. “How about now?”

“I think maybe I ought to at least tell Mutti and my brother before our friends…”

“Actually, they already know I was going to ask you – I’ve added them to a text group ready for when I had your answer…”

“Group text? Who else knew you were going to propose?”

“Aside from your mum and brother, Till and the other guys from work, your Emigrate buddies, my family, Frankie and the gang…”

“Is there anyone you didn’t tell?” Richard asked, mouth agape.

“Well, I didn’t put it on the official website or anything, but I can alter that…”

“Don’t you dare! How long have you planning this?”

“I’d bought the ring before you were…before you went missing. Till and I actually had a discussion back then, he said he was surprised I’d not proposed already. I didn’t mention I’d bought a ring, I was just trying to pluck up the courage to ask you. Things kinda went sideways after that, so I decided to wait until I thought the time was right. I realised when the others bought us this holiday with this date, that they were saying I should ask.”

“Wow! I can’t believe how incredibly sneaky everyone’s been!”

Schneider was concerned that Richard might associate his and the others’ collusion over the proposal with the devious actions Paul had taken. He needn’t have worried though – Richard was looking at him with one of his happiest smiles.

“Well? Aren’t you going to let them know my answer?”

“Just a second while I find the draft message…” Schneider unlocked his phone and tapped the touchscreen a few times until he found it. Richard peered over his shoulder.

“What’s that other message?”

“Nosy parker!” Schneider said, kissing the tip of Richard’s nose. “That one was in case you said no. I wasn’t one hundred percent certain that you’d say yes, and I knew that if you turned me down I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on writing a text on account of all the crying I would have been doing!”

“Aww, poor Doomie!”

Schneider tapped his phone once more. “There…sent! We might want to turn both of our phones to silent, or we’ll not get any sleep with all the replies.”

“What makes you think I was going to let you sleep anyway?” Richard said salaciously, as he positioned himself so that he was lying on top of his fiancé, kissing him on the lips, then sitting up to straddle Schneider’s hips, wriggling around in order to get the drummer aroused. As he felt Schneider stiffen beneath his buttocks he rose up slightly, before impaling himself on Schneider’s erection, groaning with pleasure. Schneider put his hands on Richard’s hips to steady him while he rode him.

*You have 49 text messages and 27 voicemail messages*


	19. Nineteen

“So have the two of you decided where and when you’re getting married?”

“Bloody hell, Till – we’ve only just got back home! We’ll probably start thinking about that after we’ve finished unpacking, and getting back to norm-”

“After my birthday, probably July, somewhere here in Berlin…” Richard said, before burying his nose in Angel’s fur and snuffling at her.

“I stand corrected.” Schneider said, as Till laughed.

“And Angel’s going to be there too.”

“I’m not sure that…” Schneider began, earning a look from Richard that warned of a strop on the horizon. “Apparently Angel’s going to be there too.” Schneider confirmed.

Till shook his head, laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. “He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, hasn’t he? But seriously, I couldn’t be happier for the pair of you.”

He gave them each a bear hug and a kiss, careful not to squish the puppy in Richard’s arms.

“I’m going to miss that little furball – she’s been fun to have around. She soon started bossing my dogs around despite being much smaller.”

“Evidently she takes after her mommy,” Schneider commented, before wincing – expecting an ear-bashing, but either Richard hadn’t been paying attention or was pretending not to have noticed. If it was the latter, Schneider was certain he’d be hearing about it later.

Richard adjusted his hold on Angel, “I guess we better get going home, we’ve got lots to do. Thank you for looking after our little girl while we were away, Till.”

“You’re welcome.”

They moved towards the front door, Schneider opening it to let Richard and Angel through. As he turned back to close the door behind them he saw Till drawing a finger across his throat, imitating someone getting their throat cut, before pointing at Schneider, grinning, knowing that the drummer had inadvertently slipped up.

***

Up on the building across from the wedding venue, Paul adjusted his position, and wiped the sweat from the scope on his rifle. He cursed Richard and Schneider for having their wedding in midsummer. The temperature on the exposed rooftop was becoming almost unbearable.

It was purely by chance that he’d found out the details. He’d learned of their engagement from the band’s official website in a notice at the start of March, a notice which had also stated; ‘following Paul Landers’ departure from Rammstein, after lengthy discussions the remaining five members have decided that the recently released album will be the final one from the band, and regret to announce that they will not be touring in support of the album. Richard and Till will continue recording music with Emigrate and Lindemann respectively. Oliver, Flake, and Schneider each have collaborative projects in the pipeline, news of which will be posted here in due course.’

The news item went on to congratulate the happy couple, and to thank the fans for the many years of support, but Paul wasn’t interested in reading that part. He’d felt outraged that he’d been relegated to a single sentence, and an inaccurate one at that. The news of Richard’s engagement got his blood boiling, and he decided to return to Germany as soon as possible.

It was on his return to Berlin that he bumped into a mutual friend who’d received a wedding invitation. Completely oblivious to the fact that Paul was now a ‘persona non grata’ with the rest of the band, they’d enthused about the wedding and let slip the date and location, which Paul mentally filed away for later. He promised to catch up with them at the wedding breakfast and said his goodbyes.

Certain that there could be some kind of surveillance on his house, Paul had arranged for a professional firm to put his belongings into a storage facility, but not until after he’d snuck in late one night to remove all the pictures from the bedroom wall, plus a number of items that he hadn’t managed to fit in his go-bag.

After it had been cleared, he’d put the house on the market, instructing his personal solicitor to handle everything. He rented a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, paying in cash, where he set out planning for this moment.

He wiped his forehead, where sweat was starting to bead, then sat back to wait again. The entire wedding party was inside, oblivious to Paul’s proximity. He returned his gaze to the scope, and continued waiting, patiently, for the happy couple to emerge. He almost gagged, just thinking about it.

People that Paul didn’t recognise were emerging from the building, and started milling about outside, the ceremony apparently finished. Then Paul spotted Olaf Heine – they’d obviously hired him to be their official photographer, which made sense. He was someone they knew and trusted, on both a personal and professional level.

The strangers had disappeared from view – Paul assumed they must be extended family or friends that he’d never met or been introduced to. More people started spilling out of the doors, all with happy expressions, moving to either side of the doors, and down the few steps at the front. Paul put his finger on the trigger guard, ready. Family members and friends that Paul recognised were now coming into view. Paul took a steadying breath, it was almost time.

Flake…Ollie…Till…any moment now…Richard and Schneider emerged. Schneider had an arm around Richard’s waist, whereas Richard had his arm around – a dog? At their wedding?

It was in that moment of surprised hesitation that his plan to shoot Schneider failed. Unbeknownst to Paul, one of the first people who had exited – and subsequently disappeared from view – had made their way into the building and up onto the roof, and stealthily approached him from behind as he’d been concentrating on the events across the street.

A shadow fell across his face as a voice whispered in his ear, “Schneider sends his regards.”

Paul didn’t have time to pull the trigger before the newcomer knocked him unconscious, and made short work of restraining him with ropes and cable ties.

“Rainbow Two to Rainbow One” The soldier spoke into his comm unit.

“Receiving you, Rainbow Two. Status report, over.”

“Target is in custody, repeat, target is in custody – over.”

“Copy that, Rainbow Two. I’ll inform Rainbow Leader. Housekeeping will be with you shortly, maintain position until their arrival, then bring your ass to the party. Over.”

“Understood. Standing by, Rainbow Two over and out.”

Down on the street below, Karl made his way towards Schneider, hanging back for a moment while Olaf took a photo, then whispering in his ear, “It’s done.”

“Proceed as planned,” Schneider whispered back.

“Yessir.”

Schneider nodded, and Karl slipped back to rejoin the rest of his team who were beginning to congregate after hearing the comms chatter. They’d each been assigned different buildings to surveil around the venue, which was how Paul had been spotted and subsequently neutralised.

Schneider returned his full attention to his new husband, and the requests Olaf was making for the pictures he wanted to take.

“Okay, just the happy couple, and puppy of course, for this one. Clear the area ladies and gents if you please.”

Schneider turned to Richard and gave him a gentle kiss for the camera. As he moved away he whispered, “I love you, wifey!”

Richard grinned. “I love you too, Doomie!”

Till caught Schneider’s eye, and when the drummer did a mock-salute towards him, he knew that the careful planning and security measures they’d put in place hadn’t been in vain, allowing the wedding to go ahead without any unpleasant interruptions.

Schneider’s army buddies would take Paul to an undisclosed location – giving the band plausible deniability – and keep him locked up until after the honeymoon. Till didn’t want to be in Paul’s shoes when Schneider joined them on his return. The former soldier had never elaborated on what his duties entailed during his service, but Till had a feeling that whatever Schneider had planned for Paul, it wouldn’t be pretty…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued....?
> 
> Interested to know what you think Paul's ultimate fate should be...


End file.
